lt;The Pocket Dimens

At this time, the grand house of the Yan family, built with blue bricks and covered in red tiles, was filled with the aroma of cooking. Smoke rose from its kitchen chimneys as two maidservants and a matron bustled about preparing meals for their masters.,Yan Xiaoshi closed his eyes, sighing that even being a ghost was hard work. Suddenly, with no warning, a flurry of punches and kicks landed on him. This time, the pain was very clear.,A sharp pain erupted in Yan Xiaoshi's head, his vision blurring. Fragments of memories, alien and unwelcome, flooded his mind like a raging torrent, overwhelming him.。