He gently took off his coat and hung it on the rack. Jiang Mingyuan bundled up the quilt on the soft bed and lifted it into his arms.
The floor by the window was clean, with no balcony blocking the way. Jiang Mingyuan dumped the quilt onto the floor and shaped it with his hands.
The wine bottle stood by the window. There were also a few drinking glasses on the table in the room, just right for holding wine.
He sat on the bed and took off his clothes.
He took Jiang Xiaoyue off his body. The little girl had already been fast asleep, but for some reason, the moment she realized she was now on the bed, she immediately changed back into human form, feeling that this was more comfortable for sleeping.
He put on his slippers, and the patter of water sounded from the bathroom. Jiang Mingyuan hummed a little tune whose name he could not remember.
Warm water soaked his beautiful red hair, dripping bit by bit from the ends.
Tang Wulin was this era's predetermined protagonist.
Fragmented memories of his previous life flashed before his eyes, piece by piece. It was an illusory dream called imperfection.
Jiang Mingyuan's previous life could not be called happy.
He had grown up in an ordinary way and died in an ordinary way. He had never had any great ambitions. Perhaps Heaven had been unable to bear watching and had given someone as boring as him a chance at rebirth.
Perhaps it wanted him to live a spectacular life this time.
He now stood before the mirror, wiping the water from his skin with a fragrant towel.
Jiang Mingyuan looked at himself in the mirror.
"He" was far more confident than he was.
"Who are you?"
I'm you.
But.