Midnight lay silent, waiting for the city to fall asleep once more.
The night sky stretched high above, while the unextinguished lights below outlined Beijing's vastness and prosperity.
As the night wind carried countless people's dreams into the pitch-black heavens, a figure landed atop the Starfall Tower as usual.
After everyone had fallen asleep, he quietly flew out of The Cabin once more.
His black hair fluttered wildly in the darkness, the hem of his black, burning coat sweeping long through the night wind. Sitting on the tower's edge, his figure blended into the night beneath the infinitely distant sky.
Fang Ran's black eyes quietly gazed over all of Beijing beneath the night.
He had not gone training on the past few nights since returning from North America, sitting atop the tower like this instead—not only because his previous injuries still needed time to heal.
It was also because he had so many things to think about.
He thought about the activity of Night Battle. He thought about the crisis in the Dark World, about economic knowledge he did not understand, about the qualifications he lacked as an A-rank Upper Tier, about Ye Jiangran, and about whether having abilities was good or bad.
He thought about everything he had gained during his trip to North America.
But tonight, besides all that, he was thinking about something else.
Fang Ran recalled the figure who had stepped out of the past during the day, recalling every scene of getting along with that Ling whom he did not know.
The night wind drifted across the Top of the Tower, kneading countless thoughts into the boundless darkness.
He thought about the question she had asked him at the end.
And as he kept thinking, after an unknown amount of time—
His black eyes suddenly