He would never forget that dark and boundless night, when fire shot into the sky and the demons returned from hell, turning day into night, midsummer into harsh winter, hope into despair, and life into death.
The screams pierced the eardrums, the cries were heart-wrenching, and the blood everywhere bloomed like Manzhu and Shahua enchantingly. The person he loved most betrayed him, the person he loved most left him, and the person he longed for most cut off the rest of his life. He looked up at the last star that refused to disappear before the dawn. The culprit, the devil who had turned the clouds and rains all over again, descended in front of him like a god. Yingying smiled and said: Come with me.