Seeing Zhao Changhe’s gaze that held a hint of admiration, Xia Longyuan’s hint of madness remained uncontained, and ferocity lay within his eyes. “Although our goals may differ, wanting to go home is just as good. Let me ask you this, when you want to go back, will you kneel down and beg them to send you back, or will you step on their faces and tell them that you can walk out on your own? And let me ask you this, why should I just accept being brought in here like a prisoner? What right do they have?!”1

Zhao Changhe looked at his gray hair, feeling slightly moved.0

He might be from the same era in the modern world, just that he was thrown into this world decades earlier, stirring up his own extraordinary storms. No matter how he manipulated the winds and clouds, he was still fundamentally someone who had been away from home for decades and could not return.0

Of course, he did not really seem to want to go back, but neither was he a rebel. This...0