Thanks to a bowl of luosifen, I summoned the ghost of a thousand-year-old bureaucrat, a “High God.”
He even forced me to sign a “Co-Living Agreement.”
I thought I’d simply had the bad luck to run into a fastidious, old-fashioned ancient ghost, but then things started getting strange:
The design sketches I doodled turned out to feature patterns he called “radiance from antiquity.”
The new director kept smiling at me. “There’s something unusual about your aura.”
In my dreams, a boy in red was always crying to me: “Sister, the nation you saved… became our hell.”
Then one day, Cang Ming’s “Diary of the Soul” fell right in front of me:
In her first life, she died in a war, and I failed to grasp her hand.
In her second life, she hanged herself, and my moonlight could not brighten the cold palace.
In this life, her name is Zhong Guoren, and she loves luosifen.
If the will of Heaven denies her a happy ending, then I’ll defy Heaven itself…
