The rain grew stronger.
Like icy blades, mercilessly scraping bare skin, penetrating the eyeballs, bringing about an irresistible urge to cry.
Fu Chi's throat seized up, his heart and lungs seemingly tangled within. Each breath dragged with it a raw, bone-deep pain.
The young maiden was smiling.
Yet there was not a trace of light in her eyes. Her sole sanctuary that she had carefully safeguarded was violated, desecrated, erasing the last traces of her warmth and tenderness.
Slowly, he lifted his hand, wiping clean the brutal blood on the maiden's cheek in the rain before he pulled her into his tight embrace, her blood soaking into his white shirt.
In an extreme way, their souls were now indistinguishable.
He gathered her messy hair behind her ears, lowered his head, and gently kissed her eyelids.
The rain was ice cold.
Winter had fully arrived.
"Good child, don't you see, I am like you now?"
