I was a low-ranking undercover cop, but somehow I transmigrated to the year Jiazi. I only wanted to live freely in this world, but fate left me trapped between two impossible choices.
War broke out without warning, and I became a spy once more, my heart full of doubt. The Bridge of the Netherworld was short, but no one crossed it; the Yellow Springs were long, and the dead could not sleep.
The King of Hell gathered on the Star-Picking Tower, while the last ties were severed beneath the Nostalgia Terrace. The plight of the common people was truly heartbreaking. The cycle of reincarnation had to be remade in the human world.
Years later, we gathered again, nearly all of us. The stars filled the sky, and the waning moon shone on the tall tower. A beauty sat by my side as warm wine slid down my throat.
The young were still young, and friends were still friends.
I sighed:
