Inside the somewhat brightly lit wooden house, the surroundings were quiet and serene. A faint floral fragrance permeated the air. The wooden window on the right stood open, and bursts of cool breeze drifted in from outside.
Luo Ze still lay on the soft wooden bed. His expression was peaceful, his breathing even, as though he were an ordinary man deep in sleep.
Suddenly, his slightly heavy eyelids twitched a few times before finally parting into a narrow slit. A ray of dazzling light entered his eyes, shattering the darkness that had lasted an entire year.
He looked hazily at the surroundings, his head feeling muddled and heavy. He remained like that for a long while before the blurry sights before him gradually became clear, and the exhaustion and fogginess that had lingered in his mind slowly faded away completely.
He stared at the scene outside the window as his awareness gradually cleared. Fragment after fragment of memory began surfacing in his mind.
Reverse Mountain, Laboon, weasel, Onigumo.
Luo Ze exhaled a breath of stale air. His head still felt muddled, and when he clenched his fist hard, there was no pain at all—only a faint sense of unfamiliarity.
"I remember Onigumo slashed me a few times. I didn't die from that?" Luo Ze suddenly recalled what had happened that day, and his heart trembled. Reaching out to touch his chest, he discovered several uneven scars there.
"Looks like someone saved me. It should have been Crocus. At the time, Crocus was the only one capable of saving me." Luo Ze muttered to himself. The scars on his body meant that someone must have saved him. And since his body had recovered so much, he must have been unconscious for a long time.
Drip.
As thoughts raced through Luo Ze's