It was pitch black all around, and she couldn't see her fingers. Zhao Ling felt that her body had become very light, like a piece of paper, floating aimlessly in the boundless darkness.
Overwhelming her was the feeling that she was getting further and further away from this world, but then another invisible force was holding her back, making her unable to leave.
Ling'er... Ling'er...
It seemed that this vague voice had been calling her, stubbornly and tenaciously echoing in her ears.
This voice was so familiar, yet so sad, hoarse and lingering, sobbing like a complaint, which made her heartbroken and heartbroken.
Ah Yuan! Ah Yuan!
Zhao Ling murmured a few times, and then suddenly woke up.
When she opened her eyes, she saw old and mottled wooden beams.
This was a poorly furnished cabin, and she was laying on a hard bed in the house. Occasionally, a few wisps of cold wind blew in from the edge of the sturdy window.
