At midnight, the moon rises.

a thin but sensitive black figure quietly touches Su Muyan's room like a ghost, and looks at Su Muyan's pale face on the bed. The face of the black figure shows a trace of impatience and apology. However, it doesn't affect her holding up the bright blade in her hand.

the blade glided down quickly and accurately, leaving a lightning shadow in the dark night. Su Muyan, who cried for too long and was too tired to sleep deeply, didn't know anything at this time.

seeing that the blade was about to fall on Su Muyan's neck, suddenly, a small voice came, hitting the black...