Honestly, the moment he saw that scene,
Fang Ran froze in helpless disbelief.
It was as if illusion and reality had connected across time, letting him see a figure that had existed only in his memories, someone he could never see again in a sense.
The young girl from the scene a hundred years ago came running toward him, calling his name.
He was so stunned that he even forgot to breathe.
In an instant, memories that had seemed long past flooded his mind—Ile, Milan, the estate, the ball in the pouring rain, the journey through countless places in the carriage.
Fang Ran lowered his head in disbelief, looking at the little girl who was exactly the same as in his memories, and murmured in shock:
"Ling?"
Then, after seeing her cling tightly to him and finally relax a little, though her childish voice still carried traces of fear, she timidly asked:
"Fang Ran, where is this?"
What had seemed like peaceful daily life had ended when the paper flames were released from the Top of the Tower last night.
After waking from a dream that had left his heart trembling that morning, he encountered an even more bewildering development that night.
"For the past few minutes, I tried to explain the situation to Master. I tried to tell her that this was a place she had built herself and that there was no danger here,"
"But Master remained frightened and kept calling your name, Fang Ran, so I had no choice but to contact you immediately."
Hearing Ile's explanation, Fang Ran did not know what to do for a moment.
Still, he first soothed Ling's unease, conjured some clothes for her to change into as usual, and saw how terrified and resistant she was toward the environment full of