Ren Yingying felt as though she had dreamed a very long dream. In that dream, she had arrived in the underworld. Everything was pitch-black, and gusts of eerie wind blew around her. Though she was the Saint Maiden of the Sun Moon Holy Cult, widely experienced and far bolder than most women, she still found it chilling. Especially that bone-piercing cold—it felt as though it could freeze even her thoughts.
She wandered aimlessly through that vast, desolate world. Before she knew it, she had followed the crowd of little ghosts—oh, no, it should have been called a ghost tide—and been carried along to the Bridge of Helplessness. Meng Po held out a bowl of soup and told her to drink it.
Ren Yingying hesitated. She vaguely felt that she could not drink that soup, as though someone important was waiting for her. Yet when she tried to think carefully, she could not recall that person's name, nor could she clearly remember his face. Then a figure radiating golden light appeared, knocked over the bowl of Meng Po's Soup, picked her up, and ran back the way he had come. A large group of ghost wardens chased after them.
Out of a woman's instinctive modesty, Ren Yingying subconsciously tried to push away the man holding her. Yet after she pushed him several times, he only held her tighter.
Though she was embarrassed beyond measure, the man's body was warm, driving away the bone-deep chill she had felt ever since arriving in this world.
A part of her suddenly became reluctant to give up that comfort. After failing to push him away several times, her strength gradually weakened, and she simply let him hold her.
She had always wanted to see what the man looked like, but she could not. She did