Lin Feng smirked at his monitor. Another virtual empress had fallen under the undeniable charm (and strategically placed banana peels) of his character in 'Imperial Harem Conquest Online.' The favorability score had just hit 100, unlocking the "Absolute Loyalty and Unlimited Resources" achievement. His reward? A half-eaten bag of spicy crayfish chips and the profound satisfaction of digital domination.
Lin Feng was a perfectly ordinary modern-day university student with an unhealthy obsession for harem simulator games and a distinct lack of real-world romantic success. Who knew that his biggest achievement in life would be managing a virtual imperial court? Until today, that is. Today, his luck took a sharp, ninety-degree turn into the realm of the utterly bizarre, all thanks to the 'Dimensional Leap VR Helmet' he'd won in a suspiciously easy online raffle. They advertised 'unprecedented immersion.' They forgot to mention the whole 'transporting your soul across spacetime' part.
One moment he was basking in the glow of his digital empire, the next a headache like a thousand needles stabbing his brain, followed by a sensation of being squeezed through a cosmic keyhole. When the world stopped spinning, his comfy gaming chair had been replaced by damp, rough straw, and the familiar hum of his PC fans by the ominous chanting of voices he definitely didn't recognize.
"Purify the body! Prepare the vessel for His Majesty's grace!"
His Majesty? Vessel? Lin Feng's inner gamer's danger sense was tingling like crazy. Had the 'Dimensional Leap' somehow glitched him into a super-realistic historical VR event? Then he saw them. Two sturdy men in ridiculously theatrical robes, their faces set in expressions of grim determination, and in the hand of one, a gleaming, curved blade that looked way too real for comfort. They were advancing towards… well, towards his nether regions.
"Woah, woah, hold up a moment, brothers!" Lin Feng blurted out, scrambling backwards, his years of avoiding early morning lectures finally paying off with surprising agility. "Is this some kind of… elaborate welcoming ceremony? Because I have to say, the… the prop刀具 is a little intense."
The one with a face that resembled a particularly grumpy steamed bun grunted. "Insolent one! You have been selected to serve His Majesty in the inner palace. Prepare for the Cleansing Ritual!"
Cleansing Ritual? Lin Feng's gaze locked onto the blade. This was not a drill. This was very, very far from his comfort zone, which usually involved a beanbag chair and endless streams of anime.
"Look, esteemed sirs," Lin Feng said, trying to inject some much-needed sincerity into his voice. "There's been a… cosmic-level misunderstanding. I'm really not the 'serving His Majesty in the inner palace' type. More of an 'outer courtyard, maybe even just admiring the palace from a safe distance' kind of guy."
They clearly weren't buying it. One of them, built like a particularly angry ox, reached down and grabbed his ankle. Lin Feng yelped, a sound that echoed with genuine terror in the dimly lit room. This was happening.
His brain, surprisingly functional despite the whole 'interdimensional travel and impending castration' thing, started firing on all cylinders. Fragments of historical dramas, online forum discussions about palace life, and a particularly ridiculous meme about a guy faking a stomachache to avoid chores flashed through his mind. And then, a plan, as crazy as it was desperate, began to take shape.
As the ox-like guard went for his other leg, Lin Feng clutched his abdomen with dramatic flair and let loose a series of gut-wrenching moans that would have made a seasoned opera singer envious. "Aiyah… my stomach! The pain… it's like a thousand angry fire ants are holding a rave in my intestines!" He writhed on the dusty floor, exaggerating every twitch and groan. "I think… I think something just… exploded!"
The two guards froze, their determined expressions replaced by a shared look of utter bewilderment. Exploding intestines? That certainly wasn't part of the purification handbook.
"What's wrong with this one?" the steamed-bun-faced guard asked, cautiously poking him with his foot.
"It feels… like my internal organs are staging a rebellion… led by a particularly vengeful spleen!" Lin Feng wailed, adding a touch of modern internet slang for extra authenticity (or at least, what he hoped passed for authenticity in this bizarre situation). "And… and I think I just felt something… leak!"
The steamed bun's face paled slightly. "Leak? Perhaps… perhaps we should consult with Eunuch Head Zhao?"
"Yes! Quickly! Before… before the… the… toxic fumes overwhelm us all!" Lin Feng gasped dramatically, clutching his stomach so hard it actually started to hurt for real.
The guards exchanged another look, this time tinged with genuine concern. A recruit who was potentially contagious, internally combusting, and possibly leaking biohazards was probably not the best addition to His Majesty's meticulously maintained inner court.
With a final, wary glance at his convincingly contorted face, the steamed-bun guard declared, "We shall return. Do not attempt any foolishness… for the consequences will be… thorough."
They hurried out of the room, and Lin Feng let out a long, shaky breath, his impromptu performance having bought him a precious sliver of time. But he knew his window of opportunity was small. He had to escape this place and figure out exactly where (and when) he had landed. His gamer instincts, honed through countless hours of virtual stealth and survival, were on high alert. This wasn't a game, but the core principles remained: survive, adapt, and by the heavens, keep his personal settings intact.
Capitalizing on their momentary absence, Lin Feng sprang to his feet, his supposed agony miraculously cured. Following the direction the guards had taken, he scurried through a maze of dimly lit corridors, the air thick with the smell of damp stone and an oddly sweet, cloying fragrance he couldn't quite place. Eventually, he found a door that wasn't secured. His heart hammered in his chest as he slipped through, finding himself in a bustling courtyard teeming with people in similar ancient attire. But these weren't guards. They were… eunuchs. Dozens of them, their movements carrying a certain grace and… lack of something… that made his stomach clench.
Panic threatened to engulf him once more, but he clung to the thread of his earlier lie. Maybe, just maybe, he could use it to blend in, at least for a little while.
Adopting a sickly pallor and a slightly hunched posture, Lin Feng shuffled into the throng of eunuchs, trying his best to mimic their movements. If anyone looked his way, he'd just clutch his stomach and whisper about rebellious intestines. Hopefully, that would buy him enough time to formulate a real plan