January 16th, six in the morning, by the moat.
Today was a bleak, overcast day. Thin clouds hung over Shanming City, while a light yet bone-piercing cold wind blew.
A handful of scattered pedestrians wandered uncertainly along the moat's banks, where a thin layer of ice had formed, wrapped tightly in their coats against the wind.
Those who still chose to go out in such weather usually wore hesitation on their faces. Even those walking in pairs often said nothing to each other, heads lowered as they moved slowly.
Everyone carried something on their mind, and people had never liked discussing such matters openly. Even when they had arranged to meet, they often replaced conversation with silence.
People always said the past should be carried away by the wind, but how many could truly be so free and easy? They merely found excuses to comfort themselves. Yet excuses were excuses in the end.
The wind could not carry away any emotion. It would only blow the human heart into greater turmoil.
Perhaps among these few scattered people, only Ji Li's heart was completely empty. The road ahead of him was solitary and singular; what made him waver was only the murky fog lining both sides of that road.
He no longer wished to think about anything.
The Tenth Supervision Event and the Ghost Bride incident had drained his spirit over fifteen days and nights, leaving him nearly unable to recover.
Physical exhaustion could be eased through rest, but spiritual depletion was not something time could wash away.
Yet perhaps the most helpless thing was that the train of life could never stop to rest before the moment it was completely wrecked.
Ji Li wore a newly washed wool coat, both hands tucked into his pockets. A wool scarf hung loosely