The moon, cold as frost, drifted into the room, and the person on the bed awoke with heavy breathing.
"Xixi..."
Sitting straight up, the man gasped for air, drenched in sweat; beads of cold sweat slid down his temples. Under the moonlight, his face was as pale as paper, devoid of any hint of color, as he stared dumbly at his clean, fair palms.
Thinking back on the nightmare he had just had, the recurring nightmare, he remembered Xixi covered in blood, lifelessly lying in his arms; recalling how his hand was stained red with Xixi's blood, his heart involuntarily tightened again and again, a mix of panic, restlessness, and fear all assaulting him at once.
With trembling fists clenched, the man's gaze was resolute.
Xixi, wait for me, wait for me to become even stronger, and I will come for you. By then, I absolutely won't let you suffer even the slightest harm.
He believed that Xixi, just like him, must have been reborn!
