In a haze, like a dream, like an illusion.
These people... were the ones he had seen before, those who died in Fog Gathering.
And at the moment he saw this scene, Bai Yanliang also felt completely weak, collapsing to the ground.
Qi Nian and a group of shadowy human figures surrounded him, looking down at him, expressionless...
————
I had a dream.
In the dream, I often played with a big boy...
Under the dim sky, on an old street, the stage set up was singing an opera I couldn't understand.
The big child and I sat in the dark audience, watching the stage intently, occasionally clapping enthusiastically.
Until the sky grew darker, until I realized the surroundings were unusually quiet, the stage also fell silent.
The previously incomprehensible yet pleasant opera now seemed particularly jarring to the ears, and the big child and I hurriedly looked around to find that the vast audience had long since emptied, leaving only us sitting there.
