Angelica

In the dead of night, evil spirits run amok. Living things flee, and good people should head home.

After years of traveling far and wide, Zhanyang had made no progress at all. Instead, she had earned herself an honorary title: loose woman.

She vehemently denied it. She told everyone she met: I'm not a loose woman.

I'm really not a loose woman.

I'm really, really, really not a loose woman.

Everyone: Then why do you keep meeting wild men in secret on dark, stormy nights? Why are you always getting touchy-feely and hanging around with people you have no clear relationship with?

Zhanyang: It's part of the job.

Everyone: See! That's a loose woman!

Zhanyang: ...

Who would have thought that the further she went down the path of being a loose woman, the better she became at it, until she was completely in her element. There was no one like her, in heaven or on earth.

It wasn't until she met the Lord of the Six Realms that she began to reflect on her appallingly bad reputation and look down at her own shoes.

Zhanyang: Should I get a new pair of shoes?

You Xuanji: No. You can't replace me.

Exhausted and at her wit's end from You Xuanji's relentless pestering and clingy, plaster-like attachment, Zhanyang finally came to her senses after one inexplicable thing he did after another:

These days, the odds of finding true love are about as good as seeing a ghost. If, by some terrible stroke of luck, you do run into it, then congratulations: it will haunt you forever!

Theme: When someone twists the facts, you don't have to prove yourself. Time will provide all the answers.