The Third World

The room was dimly lit by the pale moonlight filtering through the dusty windows. The closet light was now off, and a small piece of the window was left un-shuttered.

Xu Feng lay on the bed, his body aching from the day's labor, and his mind grappling with the uncertainty of his situation. He'd spent around three hours cleaning up the greenhouse the first time, over an hour resting and circulating his energy, then more than six hours cleaning up the greenhouse, the second time.

He was so tired that he almost expected to sleep through the night undisturbed, although a small glimmer of hope lingered in the back of his mind that he might find his way back to Donghua. 

However, that hope was frail, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he wouldn't return until he had completed the greenhouse. Perhaps it was his sheer determination or an unyielding stubbornness that anchored him to this world.