Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Enigmatic Rules of the Private Carriage

Seeing that Gao Ning was somewhat puzzled, Granny Liu smiled and said, “You’ve seen Howl’s Moving Castle, haven’t you? Different colors represent different spaces. White stands for an empty room. Once your hand touches the handle, the white will quickly be stained with other colors. The three young men got purple—their fingers are tinged red and look quite unsightly. Let me see what color you’ll get.”

“Um…”

“If you have any questions, you’ll understand once you go in. No matter how much I tell you, it’s better to see it for yourself.”

Well, the old lady’s words did make sense.

Placing his right hand on the door handle, Gao Ning’s mind was suddenly flooded with a stream of images, as though a monitor had been plugged directly into his nerves, displaying countless pictures at lightning speed.

Most were interior designs, some showed exterior scenery, but the spaces were all similar in size. Of course, he could spend time to upgrade the service for better options.

Gao Ning chose one that pleased him, opened the door, and stepped inside.

“All right, get some rest! Next time you come out, you’ll have to continue your tasks!” Granny Liu waved her hand and turned away.

Are the tasks really that frequent?

Gao Ning remained a little confused, but said nothing more. He shut the door and began to take in his personal space.

This was a mountaintop villa, half embedded in the mountainside, the rest suspended over an abyss, the cliff so deep it seemed bottomless. Everywhere he looked was lush green; a few clouds floated in the distant sky, and though the sun was nowhere to be seen, the place was brightly lit.

The villa was made entirely of wood, smooth and refined, and spacious as well. Standing on the expansive balcony suspended in air, Gao Ning could even smell the fragrance of the timber.

Three hundred meters to the left, a massive waterfall cascaded down, grand and imposing, the cliff so high it seemed to stretch forever. Mist shrouded much of the view, so only a broad pool below could be vaguely discerned. The thunder of water reached him, though most was scattered by the wind.

A stream, several dozen centimeters wide, flowed along the left eaves, serving as the villa’s water source.

Once the carriage door closed, Gao Ning appeared directly on the broad balcony, as if he’d just stepped out from inside.

Such exquisite and distinctive villas, Gao Ning had only seen on film, so naturally he took his time to appreciate it.

He wandered outside, discovering his available space was only one hundred by one hundred meters.

The boundary wasn’t some transparent membrane, but the cool touch of solid mountain.

This suspended villa seemed to pierce the cliff itself, with nothing above or below, empty on all sides.

If he wanted to leave, aside from gliding or parachuting, there was likely no other way.

Gao Ning shook his head, unconcerned—he’d been prepared for this before entering.

Or perhaps, a resting bedroom crafted with such grandeur, even Gao Ning was somewhat awed.

This mysterious train truly had its secrets.

Outside, everything was in place: a pavilion in the corner, a small pool, an open-air bathroom, even a petite hot spring, its source unknown, steam rising enticingly.

He pushed open the door to the villa. It had three floors, not large, but each area was clearly defined.

The first floor was a lounge resembling a living room, furnished in an antique style that perfectly matched the environment.

The second floor was the bedroom, spacious and bright, with floor-to-ceiling windows and ethereal white curtains, reminiscent of a seaside retreat.

The third floor was an open space, a tea room for enjoying the view, with the inner side arranged as a study, complete with all the traditional writing tools.

Gao Ning explored thoroughly and was deeply satisfied.

He pulled a few books from the shelf and flipped through them, only to find every page blank, which puzzled him.

He took in the scenery from the rooftop on the third floor, breathing in the fresh air rich with negative ions, and felt his tense nerves finally relax.

Removing his suit jacket and tossing it over a chair, Gao Ning went down to the bedroom, stretched out on the bed, and felt an unprecedented calm.

He slept so soundly that, upon waking, he had no idea how much time had passed.

He’d had a long dream, in which someone explained the rules and usage of the room in detail.

Suddenly jolted awake, it was because the figure in his dream mentioned time.

Thinking about time, Gao Ning recalled his special template had only eight hours left.

He instinctively glanced at his Red Alert interface and was stunned.

“What’s going on? Why has time stopped?”

The countdown on the special template was fixed at eight hours and a few minutes.

Not only that, the countdown for summoning paratroopers was also frozen.

Then he suddenly remembered the dream.

“Yes, time!”

With his recollection, the dream grew clearer, almost as if he’d truly experienced it.

The voice was neither male nor female, yet distinct and pleasant.

Gao Ning gradually composed himself, went downstairs, sat at the dining table, and softly said, “I want a Sichuan twin-flavor hotpot!”

No sooner had he spoken than a bubbling hotpot appeared on the table, its red and white broths distinct, forming a Taiji pattern.

“Beef slices!”

“Lamb!”

“Winter bamboo shoots!”

“Prawns!”

“Enoki mushrooms, potato slices, lettuce, crown daisy, Jialibao, coconut milk, Boston lobster! Steamed lamb, steamed bear paw, steamed deer tail…”

Gao Ning rattled off dish names without pause. The ordinary table before him seemed to transform into a gourmet’s banquet, endlessly producing delicacies.

Every dish was exquisitely crafted, steaming and mouthwatering at first sight.

He picked up a piece of lamb with his chopsticks, his eyes widening instantly, chewing voraciously as he quickly grabbed two more bites.

Only after a long while did he restrain himself enough to put the chopsticks down.

“Indeed, passengers in their exclusive carriages possess divine creative powers.

Except for life and items one has never seen, anything can be created.

What Granny Liu said was true—once you step into your exclusive carriage, leaving again means you’re ready for your next task.

Because in the exclusive carriage, time does not exist.

No matter how long you rest—a day, a year, even ten years—it all counts as a single stay, so long as you don’t step outside.

It sounds wonderful, far better than the benefits of the main god’s space, but in reality, it’s not so.

The omnipotence of creation in the exclusive carriage cannot produce anything a passenger has not seen.

That is, whether books or games, you can only create things you know so well you’re sick of them.

So, wanting to shut yourself away forever is nearly impossible.

And the exclusive carriage forbids outsiders from entering, making it a cage in itself.

Thus, it’s merely a rest stop. Trying to exploit loopholes is impossible.

The removal of time limits is simply to ensure passengers can rest thoroughly, to the point of spiritual emptiness, until they voluntarily ask for the next task.”