"Are you willing to follow me into the endless dark world and the unknown territory?"
He hesitantly looked at the hand stretched out in front of him. The joints of the hand were in perfect shape, with some translucent calluses. The nails were round, soft and crystal-clear, but stained with the blood of dirty people. Under the dim oil lamp, they actually reminded him of rubies.
One drop, two drops, of bright red blood fell on the snow in front of him.
He looked at him blankly, and he smiled at her.
"I... I do." He licked his dry and flaky lips bitterly, "... As long as I can survive, that's fine..."
"What's your name?"
"I don't have a name."
"Don't you have a name? From today on, you will be called Sicheng. From now on, you will be my knight."