It's raining.

Luo Lanxier sat by the window, his hands on the table, his chin resting on his arms, watching the rain falling from the sky. The sparse raindrops fell on the stone slabs, splashing water.

The sky outside the window was not too bright, but not too dark either. Occasionally, some raindrops were blown into the house by the wind, sprinkling on the painted surface of the table and falling on the girl's exposed arms, bringing a cool touch.

The sound of flowing water came from the yard under the attic. Clear rainwater flowed on the stone slabs, gathered into the gutters on both sides of the yard, and then rushed to the exit at the base of the wall carrying fallen leaves.

Today, Loran Hill did not practice or read. It was not because he was very tired or bored recently, but simply wanted to rest.

White, slender fingers slid across the windowsill, making Loran Hill feel a cool, moist feeling. The wet dewdrops on the windowsill gathered together under the sliding of the fingers, forming a larger dewdrop, and then a small, irregular pool of water.

It was an ordinary thing, but she felt a faint joy in her heart. Then she leaned her head on her arm and watched the dewdrops on her fingertips collide with each other and gather together.

Dewdrops gathered and grew at the fingertips, then rolled down the windowsill and fell onto the stone slabs of the courtyard below. Together with many water droplets, they splashed small puddles, then mixed with the clear rain water and flowed away.

I didn't think about anything in my mind. Just listening to the sound of the rain flowing made me feel a little peaceful.

In fact, for many ordinary people, life does not have such dramatic ups and downs, but more of a real and ordinary daily life.

Everyone slowly spent this familiar time, occasionally finding one or two sparkling stones on the roadside. This was also the little joy in life.

The sound of raindrops still tinkling on the tiles on the eaves, then flowing down along the grooves, forming tiny raindrops that expand and contract, falling into the fresh rain breeze.

In the room in the attic, Loran Hill leaned on the table and took a quiet nap. Occasionally, one or two drops of water fell on the back of his snow-white hand, then slid down through his fingers, forming a small bridge between the table and his fingertips, which was moist and cool.

On the wooden shelf in the room, two birds were leaning against each other, their feet tucked into their feathers, resting quietly, only occasionally moving their beaks and blinking a few times, as if they were dreaming of something delicious.

——————

After choosing the sequence of practice, Loran Hill gradually settled into a stable daily routine. On weekdays, he attended classes according to the arrangements within the faction. After class, he would practice sparring with several other familiar companions in the open space under the shade of the trees. Occasionally, he would listen to some gossip and talk about interesting things that had happened to some disciples recently.

In the eyes of many, the Necromancer Order is considered a bad order, as past practitioners often enjoyed digging graves and manipulating corpses in pursuit of rapid power, a practice that many ordinary people find difficult to accept.

However, with recent practice, the girl felt that this sequence was not entirely bad.

To judge whether something is alive, we need to see whether it can die.

Stones cannot die, so they cannot be called life.

So what exactly is life? It depends on the standard of its death.

Is it true that just the body is alive? Perhaps not. For some intelligent creatures, it also depends on whether their spirit is alive.

The concept of spiritual death may be unfamiliar to some, but there is a saying that many people have heard, which is "There is no greater sorrow than the death of the heart."

The human spirit is not infinitely strong and can be hurt. These injuries come from suppression, humiliation, oppression, false accusations, despair, etc.

When the scars are shallow, the spirit can slowly heal itself over time, forget, and return to its original state.

But when the wound is deep and touches the root, it may leave a shadow or become a lifelong pain that cannot be relieved.

When scars continue to accumulate, with nowhere to release them, and finally become overwhelming, they will cause a complete collapse, leading people to a dark end. At this point, perhaps it can be called spiritual death.

In contrast to the angel sequence, which symbolizes stability, protection, and healing, the undead sequence explores the process of decay, the formation of spiritual trauma, and the final destination and end of life.

The transformation of corpses is only a small branch, but this branch has developed so well that it has overshadowed the colors of other aspects.

The first step to solving a problem is to recognize that the problem exists, otherwise there is nothing to do.

As Loran Hill's understanding and practice of the Undead Sequence deepened, she gradually discovered little secrets about herself.

My soul is not quite the same as that of an ordinary person. One day, after waking from a dream, the girl sat at the head of the bed and thought to herself.

She looked at her hair, the ends of which seemed to be dyed with a light silver, scattered on her white nightgown.

The souls of ordinary people are like fragile clouds. If they are hit by a violent supernatural force, they will dissipate, resulting in amnesia or death.

Extraordinary people are much tougher, like sponges, with a certain degree of toughness and dense connections, which can resist some damage.

And her soul was like clear jelly, or like transparent wind, connecting and dispersing at will, and then gathering together again, as if unaffected by the impact.

Unfolding his palm from the soft quilt, Roland Hill gazed at his palm. Translucent particles of light rose within it, gathering like clouds and mist to form small, gradient waves of transparency, which then dissipated in a gentle breeze. Then, these translucent particles coalesced again, forming a transparent gem like glass, reflecting the sunlight and casting a gradient of color across the quilt.

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