Tian Sheng felt as though he had dreamed a dream. In it, he seemed to have become a nimble moth, flying freely through the air and resting peacefully upon walls.
The troubles he had once known as a human no longer concerned him, and the attachments he had once held as a human no longer bound him. His form of life had changed, yet his will was being worn away by that change as well.
He began to forget that he was Tian Sheng. He began to believe that he was a moth. Was it Tian Sheng who dreamed of being a moth, or a moth who dreamed of being Tian Sheng?
Amid those hazy thoughts, an azure light brought him back to reality.
Click, click—the crisp sound of scissors echoed in his heart. Along with that sound, he felt his consciousness grow clear again, his body become light, as though something had been stripped away from him and the thing binding him had been erased.
Then Tian Sheng awoke from his dream.
When he woke, he was surrounded by ruins. He saw a thread shining with a fluorescent blue glow extending from his chest, stretching endlessly into the sky.
He raised his head and followed the thread into the heavens. High in the sky, a petite figure stood beneath the night, countless tangled threads spreading from her back like wings and connecting to innumerable people like him.
For some reason, a thought arose in his heart: he had been saved.
That figure, like an angel descended into the mortal world, was firmly imprinted in his mind before he fell unconscious again.
—"Xiaotian, hey, Xiaotian! I'm talking to you! What's wrong with you?"
The call by his ear brought Tian Sheng back to reality. He looked ahead and