The Great Dream God

Wei Yanren struggled to get up from the cold ground, trembling. His body was like a fallen leaf swaying in the autumn wind, and every muscle was tense, as if telling of the horror and pain he had just experienced. He reached out and slowly touched his cheek. The touch was wet and hot. It was his blood, which dripped from his fingers and fell on the dust, like a withered red plum, sad and dazzling.

His eyes were burning with rage and endless hatred. The eyes that were once gentle as water now became deep and fierce, like two sharp swords, piercing people's hearts. A low roar came from his throat, and every syllable was full of pain and anger, like the cry of a wounded beast, shaking the air around him.

"How dare you hit me!" His words were like ice, piercing and resolute. Every word seemed to be engraved on his heart with a knife, leaving an indelible mark. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turned white, and his veins bulged, as if he wanted to gather all his resentment and anger into a force to declare war on the person who dared to violate him.

Wei Yanren is now a completely different person. The gentleness in his eyes has been replaced by nameless rage, as if there is an unextinguishable fire burning in his heart. Every time his emotions fluctuate, they will turn into thunderous rage, shocking the people around him. His smile is no longer bright, but replaced by a hair-trigger sullen look. Those friends who used to chat and laugh with him can only carefully avoid his sharp edge now. This change is puzzling and regrettable. After all, no one wants to see a passionate young man being swallowed by anger and turned into a rude stranger.

In the lush forest, Lisa leaned quietly against an ancient oak tree, her eyes like deep lake water, reflecting the scene before her. The corners of her mouth slightly raised, outlining a warm and mysterious smile, which contained a hint of playfulness and a wisdom of insight into the world. She raised her hand, holding an exquisite flute in her palm. The sunlight shone through the gaps in the leaves, sprinkling on the instrument known as the "magic flute", as if giving it life.

This magic flute, as its name suggests, is full of magic. Every melodious melody contains unpredictable power, enough to stir the listener's mind and make their emotions rise and fall like the tide. It can make people immersed in endless sorrow, with tears pouring down, as if they have lost the whole world; it can also make people instantly furious, as irritable as trapped animals, rushing forward recklessly. It is like an invisible hand, gently plucking the most sensitive strings in people's hearts, making those lost souls like helpless lambs, blindly chasing the direction of the flute sound.

Lisa is well aware of the power of the magic flute. She uses it to understand human nature and awaken the sleeping soul. Every time she plays it, it is an exploration of the human heart and a subtle manipulation of the emotional world. She is not heartless, but uses this way to understand the world and try to use music to heal the souls worn out by life. In her hands, the magic flute is no longer just a musical instrument, but a healing tool and a beacon that guides people to find their own emotional outlet.

At this moment, Lisa's eyes fell on the magic flute again. Her fingers gently stroked every mark, as if she could hear it telling countless stories.

Lisa, the agile woman, descended from the lush branches and leaves, like an elegant cat performing light dance steps in the night. Her toes touched the ground lightly, without raising any dust, and her bright eyes were fixed on the scene in front of her - two sturdy men were wrestling with each other, and their roars and panting were particularly harsh in the quiet night.

Lisa's laughter was as clear as a silver bell, penetrating the darkness and striking people's hearts: "Hahaha! You ignorant lambs have lost yourselves in this endless dispute. Do you know that you have stepped into my hunting ground!" There was an inexplicable temptation in her words, like a call from the depths of the jungle, which was irresistible.

The moonlight shone on her, reflecting her sly smile, which was full of teasing and pride. Her fingers gently slid through the air, as if drawing an invisible circle, trapping the two fighters in it. "Become my lamb, and let this meaningless fight become my game of wisdom. Become my prey, and let your struggle become the melody of my victory!" Lisa's voice echoed in the air, and every word was like a cold arrow, shooting straight into the hearts of the two.

In the thick white fog, it seemed as if the whole world was tightly wrapped in a soft milky white veil, and only the biting coldness penetrated the fog, making people feel the existence of reality. Suddenly, a strange atmosphere began to spread in this quiet sea of ​​fog. It was the echo of a sneer, quietly cutting through the air like an ice knife, and each sound was filled with cold sarcasm.

Waves of cold laughter, intermittent, seemed to come from the depths of a distant valley, and seemed to ring softly beside the ear. They wandered in the fog like invisible ghosts, dyeing the silent white fog with a layer of weird color. Each cold laugh was like a stone thrown into the center of a lake, causing ripples, making the surrounding fog tremble, distorting the vision, and making this sea of ​​fog even more mysterious.

These sneers are not sharp, but they pierce people's hearts and make people shudder. They shuttle through the fog, sometimes strong and sometimes weak, like a mysterious character hidden in the fog, telling an unknown story with sneers as the only language. Is it ridicule, sarcasm, or provocation? No one can understand, and can only guess in the fog and feel the chilling meaning conveyed by the sneers from the depths of the fog.

The sunlight, which should bring warmth and hope, is particularly dazzling in this strange morning. It penetrates the thick white fog, trying to dispel the diffuse confusion, but instead dyes the sea of ​​fog into a pale illusion. This fog, which is so thick that it can almost be touched, is like a mysterious veil, obscuring the sight and the truth.

Everything in the fog was faded in color, leaving only white, cold and empty white. It was like an invisible beast, devouring everything around it, making the familiar environment strange and terrifying. The sun struggled in the thick fog, and the light it cast was cut into countless fragments, like thousands of pairs of ghostly eyes, flickering in the fog, spying on every creature that dared to step into this area.

The depressing atmosphere is like a heavy stone slab, pressing down on everyone's heart, making it hard to breathe. It seems that in this white world, there is endless fear and unknown hidden. Those invisible evil spirits may be lurking in the depths of the fog, quietly waiting for their prey to appear. Every tiny sound, every swaying shadow may trigger an unpredictable horror.

Zhang Duanyin's eyebrows twisted into a deep knot when he heard this. He tightly grasped the long sword in his hand. The sword body trembled slightly in the tense atmosphere, as if it could sense the inner turmoil of its owner. The moonlight shone on his cold face, reflecting a resolute shadow. His eyes were as sharp as an eagle, piercing straight at the vague black shadow opposite, "Who on earth are you?" His voice was low and firm, and every word was like the impact of iron and stone, resounding to the ground, "Show your true form quickly, don't force me to do it!" The air suddenly became heavy, and the tip of the sword seemed to foreshadow an upcoming duel.