I Wear a Mask to Imitate a Fairy

In the scarlet dream, the white-clothed senior wielded a brush to control the mountains and rivers. After he woke up, he just put on a mask and imitated holding a sword to chop out the same sword energy; the green-robed immortal painted a symbol to suppress all evil, and he imitated pulling out a piece of waste paper to doodle, and he was able to drive away the aberrations. "This is purely imitating others!" Lin Mo smiled. So what about imitation? As long as he can protect his lover, let alone imitate the magical powers of his predecessors, even if his soul is doomed, what does it matter? But the more he killed and the more he imitated, the more he felt something was wrong. The mask became more and more fitting, and when he took it off, his face could faintly reveal the outline of his senior; when he swung the knife, he subconsciously used the gestures of his senior, and even his tone of voice was tinged with an ancient calmness. During a fierce battle, he imitated the magical powers of his predecessors and heard two voices overlapping in his mind. "Wanwan, don't be afraid." "People, don't panic." The knife was dripping blood and the enemy was wailing, but he touched the mask on his face and couldn't tell for the first time: At this moment, did he want to protect Lin Mo in the evening, or did he want to save the immortals? Are the remnant souls of his predecessors hidden in those imitated supernatural powers, or is it the poison that devours his true self? And in Wan Wan, which only he could see, as he became more and more like his senior, a trace of strangeness flashed in his eyes. He knew that the more he looked like him and the harder he killed, the further away he would be from Lin Mo. But if he stops... Who will protect his Wanwan? The corner of the mouth under the mask curled up into a sneer, and the sword flashed again. No matter what, it's enough to protect her. ——Until one day, the mask can no longer be taken off.