I heard you had a white moonlight who died young.

A sinister children's song drifted into my ears, followed by the sharp, playful laughter of children. A few children were gathered in a circle in front of me, laughing and joking.

Fan Zhiyi realized that these ghosts seemed to enjoy playing tricks on him, one after another, using different methods.

How infuriating! Are they just picking on the weak?

Fan Zhiyi ran blindly, his thighs throbbing with intense pain. He felt he might really be going to die here. He couldn't run anymore, but no one wanted to be the first to know what would happen if they stopped and got caught.

The various sounds around him gave Fan Zhiyi a headache, and he finally slowed down.

Fan Zhiyi covered his head, the voice in his mind making him slam his head against the wall, telling him not to struggle anymore, that there was no point in living, that no one cared about him, no one cared whether he was alive or dead.

Fan Zhiyi steadied himself against the stone statue beside him, feeling something warm flowing from his ears, eyes, and nose.

He wiped his hand and found it was blood. He took a step forward, but his legs gave way and he knelt down in front of him.

The voices continued to chatter on and on, but Fan Zhiyi ignored them and kept crawling forward, using both his hands and feet.

He wanted to live. He hadn't even used the money he'd saved yet, and he wondered where it would go after he died. The thought made him feel it wasn't worth it. Besides, he still had so many novels he hadn't had time to read.

The city gate was always in front of them, so why couldn't they ever get there?

Did the boy realize he was missing? Will he come to save him? Hmm, probably not, considering how much he dislikes him.

Fan Zhiyi felt his legs being grabbed and he was being dragged backward, but Fan Zhiyi was unwilling to give up. In a final burst of energy, he gripped the pole of the wine banner tightly, feeling as if his upper and lower body were being pulled apart. Excruciating pain spread throughout his body.

Damn, you died such a painful death! Even if I become a ghost, I won't let you off the hook.

Suddenly, all the sounds around him faded away, and light appeared before his eyes. Fan Zhiyi opened one eye and saw a bustling ancient street.

The surrounding darkness gradually dissipated, as if a curtain had been drawn back, and the lost colors slowly returned. Fan Zhiyi looked at the person standing against the light in front of him, holding a sword and with long hair flowing.

After his eyes gradually adjusted to the light, he could finally see that the person was a boy, who was still looking at him with the same look he had when he thought someone was an idiot.

Well, a little disappointed. Fan Zhiyi thought a great beauty would be coming.

Xiao Bao ran over and hugged Fan Zhiyi, trying to help him up. Fan Zhiyi breathed a sigh of relief and collapsed to the ground. He really wanted to close his eyes peacefully at this moment.

"Fan Zhiyi, get up, something's wrong," the boy said.

Fan Zhiyi opened his eyes reflexively and saw that the people around him seemed to be frozen in time, with identical, formulaic smiles on their faces, staring straight at them.

Fan Zhiyi gritted his teeth and got up, the boy glancing at him and saying, "Let's go."

Fan Zhiyi wiped the blood from his face, nodded, and took Xiao Bao's hand.

As soon as they started walking, the crowd began to move as well, like frames of a video recording, mechanically approaching the three of them.

With each step closer, the smile on his face widened.

"Could you please hold Xiaobao for a moment?" Fan Zhiyi was barely able to take care of himself; his whole body was in so much pain that his vision was still blurry.

If he really died here, Fan Zhiyi wanted to at least not implicate others, especially Xiao Bao, who was still so young.

However, because Fan Zhiyi was always behind the boy, and the surrounding lights were dim, he did not notice the boy's pale face and the bloodstains on his body.

Without a word, the boy picked up Xiao Bao and placed a porcelain bottle in Fan Zhiyi's hand: "Have one."

Fan Zhiyi obeyed, then put the medicine, along with the previous medicine, into the pocket of his inner garment.

The boy's pace quickened, and the crowd surged toward them, as if the tide were about to engulf them.

Fan Zhiyi gritted his teeth and pinched his arm hard with his hand, his head throbbing with pain.

He gradually found it difficult to keep up, feeling as if tens of thousands of hands were pulling him down, giving him a suffocating feeling of drowning. But suddenly, a warm hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him out of the tide.

"Fan Zhiyi, pull yourself together, wake up!" The young man used his sword to cut Fan Zhiyi away from those things, but soon their escape routes were blocked, and the area where they could move was constantly shrinking.

Fan Zhiyi felt his blood flowing out of his body, and his soul floated in the air, looking at his useless self and the trapped Xiao Bao and the boy.

The boy held on tightly, then affixed the last talisman to his body.

The sword light blazed brightly, actually cleaving a large hole in the space here.

The boy seemed to say something, and then, in his dazed state, he took Xiao Bao and pushed them both into the black hole, while the boy himself stayed behind to cover their retreat.