"You all go ahead... I'm not going...," Lily, with drooping ears, sat on her own grave and said to the rats that had come to report.
Lily wasn't going to the gathering, so of course, the rats weren't going either; they gathered quietly around and watched their queen.
Under the bright sunlight, Lily's fur shone brightly strand by strand, the white tips of hair on her body once again being encroached upon by gold; it wouldn't be long before her fur turned gold again.
Next to Lily's grave, there was a small mound of earth the size of a fist, with a crooked blade of grass stuck into it.
That was the grave Lily had personally made for Pope Lai Jie; it looked very petite, almost as if it were made in play.
She didn't know why she had done it, but she had done it nonetheless.
Lai Jie, who outwardly was a cute, blond boy but inside was a 130-year-old fanatic devotee of the Light God.
