"Damn it, nothing in Laozi's life ever goes the way I want! How did I, Mo Chen, the number one ice dancer, end up in such a miserable environment?"
Mo Chen's breath was ragged, and sweat dripped from his once fair face. No, not fair anymore—his once captivating features, adored by millions, were now dry and filthy, his original skin tone barely visible beneath the grime. Within just a few short hours, his once cherry-pink lips had cracked, turning a sickly yellow due to dehydration and heat. Even his silky black shoulder-length hair had taken on a brownish tint.
Only those light brown eyes remained unscathed by the disaster, still dazzling and radiant under the sun, their brilliance even more striking than before.
The heat was unbearable. Mo Chen's head felt heavier by the second. If only he could get a glass of water—just a small one.
Just two hours ago, Mo Chen had been training at his team's private skating rink. With the international competition fast approaching, their training had been grueling.
In truth, the real reason behind Mo Chen's exhaustion was his bad habit—he had spent the entire night reading transmigration novels again. It was his secret obsession, the love of his life. Mo Chen had always adored stories about traveling to different worlds, and he often fantasized about experiencing it himself.
"God, are you messing with me on purpose? When I said I wanted to transmigrate to another world like in those novels, I didn't mean this! I didn't mean getting thrown into some barren, scorching desert! Look at this—no grass, no water, no signs of life! How am I supposed to survive here? And to make matters worse, you transported me while I was training, so I'm still wearing my damn skating outfit! Have you no mercy?"
Only God knew how terrified he had been when he first opened his eyes and found himself in an endless sea of golden sand. The last thing he remembered was feeling utterly exhausted. But just as his coach had scolded him—warning him not to get cocky just because he was the best—he had forced himself to keep training like everyone else. He had stepped onto the ice, completed a few laps, and then…
Then he attempted a triple backflip.
After that, darkness.
And now—nothing.
He had woken up in this empty wasteland. At first, he thought he was dreaming. Then, he assumed his coach was playing some cruel prank on him. But eventually, he had no choice but to accept reality. And as someone obsessed with transmigration novels, how could he not recognize the signs? He was in another world.
Oh, if you're wondering how he was so sure—just look at the sky.
Had Earth suddenly adopted new moons overnight? Otherwise, why were there three different-sized moons forming a ring in the sky? Even in broad daylight, they were visible.
"At the very least, if you were going to transport me to another world, you could have dropped me into the bed of a powerful marshal or the bathtub of a rich prince..." Mo Chen muttered to himself out loud. Not that anyone was around to hear his shameless complaints.
To be honest, Mo Chen was gay. He had never been in love, but he didn't mind. He was perfectly content with the BL novels he read and never felt the need for a real-life relationship. He had known his orientation for years—after all, his favorite genre was boys' love, and he devoured every variation of it.
Mo Chen had a sharp tongue, but in front of others, he was slightly reserved. That was before he got thrown into the middle of nowhere. Who knew how this sudden transmigration would affect his personality?
Because, as everyone knows, human emotions and behaviors are unpredictable.
Uncertain about that? Try getting tossed into an unfamiliar world, completely alone, and see if you don't lose your mind.
---
Mo Chen trudged across the scorching sand in his ice skates.
Yes, you heard that right—he was walking in ice skates.
He had taken them off earlier, but the heat had nearly melted the soles of his feet, so he had no choice but to put them back on. Even the outfit he had once loved so much had become a burden. His figure-hugging black skating suit, designed for speed and elegance, now felt suffocating. The slim black pants clung to his long legs, emphasizing their grace, while his stylish, open-collared red shirt—usually a statement of confidence—now made him stand out like a rare gemstone against the endless yellow sands.
"I'm going to die… I'm going to die today… My God, I haven't even been on a proper date! I haven't even had my first kiss! If I had known I was going to die such a miserable, lonely death, I would have found myself a cute guy and spent last night in bed with him instead of reading that stupid novel about the tyrannical imperial marshal."
At this point, Mo Chen couldn't even feel his legs anymore. He had no idea how he was still moving. Maybe it was sheer willpower keeping him upright. Otherwise, he would have collapsed long ago.
Don't be fooled by the fact that he had only been here for half a day. Someone used to hardship might have considered it a minor inconvenience, but Mo Chen was different.
When had he ever suffered like this?
Even though his family wasn't exactly rich, he had at least always had air conditioning at home. Ever since he became a competitive skater at the age of ten, he had grown naturally accustomed to the cold. You could say he had become cold-blooded in a way—he could endure freezing temperatures, but heat was his nemesis.
Just as he felt the last traces of life slipping from his body, a faint chill brushed against his face.
At first, he thought it was a hallucination. He had read about people seeing mirages in the desert—visions of wells, lush oases with fresh water, and towering trees.
But this…
Could someone please explain why, instead of an oasis, he was seeing a vast stretch of ice ahead of him?