It was dark all around. The heavy ancient bell rang every time, as if there were still people who didn't know its weight. The sound of the bell is sometimes near and sometimes far away, but it is always echoing. My vision seemed to be covered with a layer of mist, but I could still feel the constant moisture in the air.
The surrounding area was full of thorns, and all Liang Li could do was keep running.
The crisp sound of high heels unique to England in the eighteenth century echoed in the environment, accompanied by rapid breathing.
"Crack."
The door opened somewhere, making a unique sound like a wooden board.
"Who, who's there?!"
I could faintly hear footsteps approaching, followed by a burst of scalp-numbing laughter.
It seemed like I had stepped on something, and the texture was different from the paper-paved ground before. Liang Li froze there. Even if he knew it was a dream, people would still be afraid subconsciously.
"Click."
It was like the sound of something breaking.
The nearly stiff body could only rely on instinct to slowly bend down. Every time he moved, he felt progressive pain. His body seemed to be supported by something, like a tutu hanging on a hanger.
Almost touching.
"Hello."