I dressed up as the white moonlight stand-in in ancient sadistic novels who was about to be drained of flesh and blood by the male protagonist and abandoned like a pair of worn-out shoes. The system told me that as long as I completed the plot of "eyes gouged out, blood exchanged, and mass graves abandoned", I could go home. I finished the performance diligently and succeeded in escaping to death. Three years later, when I returned to Beijing with my fiancé, the little prince of the Western Regions, my ex-husband, who was firmly on the throne, stopped my car in front of the palace gate with red eyes, and asked me tremblingly: "... Why aren't your eyes blind?"
