"Xiao Hei, I found something."
Xiao Hei scratched his head and said, "Host, you say."
Fang Zhiyi grabbed it and asked, "You haven't assigned any tasks recently?"
Xiao Hei was a little embarrassed: "Host, you already know that the mission is fake..."
"Games also have to have clearance requirements, right? Huh?"
Xiao Hei thought for a moment: "It seems that everything you have done, host, meets the requirements. Anyway, I feel that the worlds I have passed through have become much better."
"And! What do you look like?" Fang Zhiyi grabbed Xiao Hei and shook him.
Although Xiao Hei is still pitch black at this time, it has taken on a human form. It has grown into the appearance of a little girl! And the more I look at it, the more familiar it looks!
"Hehe... I think Yue Anyao is the most beautiful among so many worlds... Host, don't you like her?" Xiao Hei broke free from his hands and turned around gracefully.
"Forget it...it's up to you." Fang Zhiyi waved his hand helplessly.
Fang Zhiyi opened his eyes again, but found himself still floating in the air.
"What's going on?" Before he could react, many scenes flashed before his eyes like a movie.
On the Dragon Boat Festival in the 18th year of the Republic of China, the stage in Qinghe Town was crowded with people. Fang Zhiyi, who was wearing theatrical makeup, was singing "Red Gauze Covers Her Face and Broken Strings" when her attention was inadvertently attracted by a figure by the river not far away. The figure seemed to be holding something and pressing it into the water. Just when the drumbeats paused, the faint sound of a baby crying could be heard.
Fang Zhiyi was startled, and suddenly thought of his deceased sister. He hurriedly finished his part and went backstage. The old troupe leader didn't understand why, but his years of experience allowed him to immediately direct the other two martial artists to go to the front and continue performing. Fortunately, the townspeople in this place didn't watch many shows, and no one could notice the flaws.
Not long after, Fang Zhiyi climbed out of the river, dripping wet, holding a baby girl in his arms very carefully.
A spectator smoking a pipe not far away saw this and teased Fang Zhiyi: "Actors are meddling in other people's business, aren't they afraid of damaging their voices?" This was a very vicious remark. For an actor, losing his voice is equivalent to cutting off his own career, but Fang Zhiyi pretended not to hear.
His whole heart was on the baby girl in his arms. He carefully wiped the water off her face. Only when the baby girl cried again did he feel relieved.
That night he took the baby girl back to the dilapidated temple where the troupe was temporarily staying, found a cleaner room to put the baby girl away, changed the wet wrapping on her body, and took out the silver dollars he had saved to buy some goat milk from someone in the town. After he finished everything, he looked at the baby girl sleeping quietly and fell asleep himself.
But before daybreak, there was a sound of knocking on the door outside, followed by seven or eight strong men rushing in with wooden sticks, followed by a hunchbacked old man.
The old man saw him and the baby girl. He was furious: "You ruined my luck! Beat him up!"
Fang Zhiyi held the baby girl in his arms as the stick hit him. After just a few hits, his arm broke with a crisp sound. The outside of the dilapidated temple was already surrounded by villagers, but they were all watching the fun. Even the people in the troupe stood aside and said nothing.
"Isn't this actor a scoundrel? Meddling in Mr. Ma's family's affairs?"
"That's right. My blind fortune teller said that this baby girl's horoscope will bring bad luck to her father, so she needs to be removed as soon as possible."
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