One by one, their own hands pulled him down, down, down.

who I am?

Where do I come from?

What am I supposed to do?

As Chen Jing asked himself these questions, he sank into a sea of ​​negative emotions.

There is the tragic scene of Wan Tong, the younger sister, being sacrificed in blood.

There is the body of Li Huaxing, who was killed by her "father".

There was the cold gaze of the black-armored knight as he turned his head, and the zombie that stood up beside him.

An ancient soul suddenly pounced down from the source of darkness above my head and seized my body.

Chen Jing struggled to control his will, to keep himself from falling into darkness, and to prevent himself from being consumed by these doubts and worries.

Those holding him held a mixture of rage—the urge to indiscriminately kill ordinary soldiers to vent their pent-up frustration; a primal desire for beautiful women; and a selfish urge to abandon his younger siblings and escape…

Chen Jing struggled to lift his head, looking up at the "divine self" that represented reason from the mire of his evil self, a grotesque, stitched-together divine self.

I miss home. I want to protect my younger siblings.

I want to eat something good. I want them to have a better life.

Numerous tiny wishes exploded in Chen Jing's soul, and these insignificant things pulled him back, preventing him from completely falling apart.

Before I knew it, it started raining.

The rain was drizzling.

At the fortune-telling stall, the young fortune teller was busy packing up; the guards in the center of the street were taking shelter from the rain under the eaves; and residents struggling to survive were running out of the market, clutching their precious food.

No one heard a boy singing loudly, reciting poetry or singing in another language in the rain.

His joys and sorrows were unrelated to anyone else, as if they were in another world.

...

Li Huaxing was practicing his swordplay again in the rain.

A hand pressed on his arm, and Li Huaxing realized that Chen Jing had somehow gotten to his side.

“This isn’t good for your health,” Chen Jing said. “Rest for a while, go eat, and I’ll teach you after we eat.”

Li Huaxing was stunned for a moment, not bothering to wipe the rain from her hair. She felt that her brother had changed a lot today, and was very different from usual.

Of course, it's a positive change.

"Okay," Li Huaxing replied obediently.

...

A young girl, not yet sixteen, dressed in a red dress, sat quietly by the window of her bedroom, watching the rain falling outside.

This is a secluded villa belonging to the Black Hand; the windows aren't covered with paper, but with glass.

The girl was writing words on the condensation on the glass with her slender, delicate hand.

"Has it been found?"

The girl waited a moment, watching the rainwater flowing down the window, and words naturally formed from it.

"No, the source has been covered up."

The girl read it carefully, then wrote on the window with a mixture of seriousness and anxiety:

"Then we need to be careful."

The rain answered her like this:

"good."

Note 1: Li Ronghao's "Li Bai"