Bai Xiao opened her eyes, having just slept—or more accurately, fainted.
It was as if she had wandered around in a void.
Everything around her was shrouded in dense fog, obscuring paths and scenery alike.
Alien and icy, dead and oppressive, it was suffocating.
It was in such an environment that she sought a way out.
The lonely and indifferent surroundings felt distinctly hostile as her consciousness flickered in and out.
It was as if it wasn’t her own, like a wisp of a ghost wandering in an empty world; this sensation reminded her of the feeling she had at the time of her death in her previous life. She hovered mid-air, watching Jiang Shaoqing and others handle her corpse, even dressing her up. Watching one’s own funeral must be a peculiar experience.
Now, the feeling from that time seemed to be returning. Could she be dead, again?
Her body was void of any sensation, cold, heat, or pain. Of course, feelings of solitude and loneliness were purely internal, unrelated to her physical form.
Everything seemed distant and surreal. She knew she had to try and leave; there was an urgent reason forcing her to return, but she couldn’t move at all, as if her feet were weighted down with lead, making every step arduous.
She was certain she couldn’t move.
Of course, she hoped she would be able to get up soon.
No, no, she couldn’t lie to herself, not even now.
Especially now. She seemed to know she was close to death.
She was well aware, but it didn’t matter. If there had been another choice, she wouldn’t have given up easily, but all options had vanished, and letting go felt so light.
She truly wished to stay here forever, where each step was like moving a mountain.
This would scare An Zhiyuan, her Colonel An. If he knew she was dead, what would his expression be?
The very thought suddenly made her feet feel less heavy.
She pushed herself to remember all the unfulfilled wishes she still had: she hadn’t spent a lifetime growing old with Colonel An, hadn’t had a child of her own to watch grow up, hadn’t seen her older brother settle down, hadn’t witnessed her sisters grow old as she had, and most importantly, her enemy had yet to receive their retribution.
No, heaven wouldn’t punish Shang Kaiwen; that person’s reckoning could only come from her.
How could the Lord call her back without her debts of gratitude repaid or her vengeance fulfilled?
This was utterly unacceptable.
Filled with indignation, she told herself no, absolutely not.
The view before her eyes was strange, blurry and shadowy, but suddenly, a face appeared in front of her. She recognized that person.
Her Colonel An.
She saw those black, obsidian-like eyes, eyes that brought dreams to life and also housed nightmares, that resolute profile, and she knew how soft and tender those lips were.
In that moment she wanted to touch his chin, to feel his prickly stubble and the cool skin covering his fiery muscles, but her hands wouldn’t move.
Her whole body was immobilized.
Then she saw herself enveloped in a transparent cloud of dense fog.
After a forceful squeeze, she saw a droplet of water emerge and slowly fall onto her heart.
Yes!
She saw her own heart.
A bright and clear light sparked within her heart, growing brighter and warmer, and she began to feel serene, comfortable, and secure.