Cold and dark.
It was as if he had fallen into a black hole.
My body kept falling downwards, with no support and no center of gravity.
Everything is beyond our grasp and our reach.
It felt a bit like being dead, but also somehow different.
He drifted aimlessly and vaguely, without a beginning or a destination.
For some reason, he seemed to occasionally feel a familiar warmth enveloping him.
A strange longing flows through my chest, and I try to grasp it every time, but I can never quite manage it.
He drifted for a very long time, but the warm touch grew stronger and stronger.
He sensed it clearly.
My heart skipped a beat.
Sister, is that you?
Did you come looking for me?
Oh no, he's dead.
Sister, it seems... you don't want him anymore.
So, can people still feel heartache after they die?
Well, in his previous life he lived worse than a dog. He remembers not feeling anything when he died last time.
Okay, he doesn't deserve it.
I lost all sense of time and space; I seemed to be sometimes lucid and sometimes confused.
He thought the King of Hell was a bit inefficient.
Or is it that he committed too many sins and doesn't deserve to be reborn?
Let him meet Meng Po. With his good looks, he'll surely be able to charm her and let him reincarnate.
"My sweet baby."
A faint voice seemed to drift over, stirring a tremor in his soul.
There is only one person in the whole world who calls him that.
He answered with all his might, "Sister!"
"elder sister!"
"You came to find me, didn't you?"
"Is that you? I'm here!"
He called out for a long time, but received no response.
He felt an indescribable bitterness and dejection in his heart. Actually... he didn't want to die.
He made the worst-case scenario plan by leaving a letter, so that even if he died, his sister would be able to see it, and at least he wouldn't be considered a liar.
But he also had a plan; if he succeeded in killing the old witch, he even had a plan on how to apologize to his sister.
elder sister.
Even though I'm dead, I really miss you.
If I could, I would still want to live; I don't want to leave you.
If you don't want me anymore, I'll hide away, watch you, and not bother you or bother you.
If you still want me...
"My sweet baby."
"I miss you so much, sister."
He suddenly tumbled over, looking around anxiously, and reached out to grab something.
"Sister! Sister!"
"It's you, isn't it?"
"It really is you, isn't it?"
"I miss you, I miss you too, but I can't find you."
"Please take me with you..."
He struggled until he was exhausted, but ultimately received no response.
Gradually, this call, which seemed to come from outside, became more and more obvious and more and more frequent.
But no matter how much he struggled and responded, it was to no avail.
He felt as if he were locked in a glass house, vaguely able to sense the outside world, but that vibrant and exciting world didn't belong to him at all.
He pounded weakly on the windowpane. "Sister, I can't get out. Please take me with you..."
At one point, he suddenly found a foothold.
He seemed to be stuck in a cold quagmire. (Metaphor for a relapse of the disease)
Instantly, dark, damp vines burrowed into my chest, and icy mud seeped into my nerves, freezing my blood. A strong feeling of suffocation washed over me like a tidal wave.
He struggled with all his might, unable to move an inch, and instead sank deeper and deeper.
A cold and terrifying aura swept over him, an aura more like the aura of death he had felt before.
The feeling of suffocation grew stronger with each wave, and all that could be seen was endless darkness.
He felt as if he had sunk into a quagmire, unable to feel any warmth. The terrifying aura of death was constantly eroding his nerves, seemingly trying to drag him completely into darkness.
He could only struggle to stick his head out, desperately trying to get some relief and a chance to catch his breath.
A feeling of fear arose spontaneously.
In fact, no matter how many times a person faces death, they will still feel fear.
elder sister.
Help me.
I miss you.
He was covered in mud countless times, almost suffocating, yet something seemed to be constantly pulling him back, giving him a chance to catch his breath.
He was like a prisoner being tortured, unable to resist or move.
Endless torment, yet desperately clinging to that glimmer of light that seems impossible to appear.
Just as his desperate eyes were gradually blurred by the mud and his consciousness was about to completely sink into darkness, a bright moon seemed to appear above his head.
He was unwilling to accept it; he died without ever seeing her one last time.
He really missed her, even just to see her one more time.
He used his last bit of strength to grab at that sliver of moonlight.
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