Faintly, a call was heard.
"Wen Xishu."
At first, it was just a sound, muddled and indistinct, like the cries for help heard by a drowning man from the shore.
But gradually, the sound multiplied, growing louder and louder.
"Wen Xishu!"
Wen Xishu heard it clearly, someone was calling his name. It was like a beam of light piercing through the dark dust. Or like an endless descent... suddenly a hand emerged from below, supporting him.
More and more lights, more and more hands, and the calling grew ever louder.
He suddenly opened his eyes, the dust dissipating rapidly, countless versions of "me" from the shattered mirrors in dim obscurity, replaced by...
