✧ THE HAMMER CLANGS as you swing away, making a weapon that could be sold off for a good price. you pay no heed to the yong'an people around you— a xianle " mutt " they call you, but it does not matter to you. how could it? ... a hundred years after xianle lost the civil war, the women in your family were forced to be working girls in the brothel. if you can just save up enough to get your elderly mother and younger sister out, then... it'll be worth your name getting dragged through the mud, youren. however, when that day finally came— you were pierced through the chest with a blade you had made yourself.
✧ something warm presses against your skin, waking you from your dead slumber. it is not warmth from another, but rather.. a warm cloth dabbing against your forehead. your scarlet eyes meet turquoise, wondering .. who was this? it turns out you were dead. in ghost city, under the control of lord chengzhu. the crimson rain sought flower.
✧ in just some time, you had grown to cherish the turquoise eyed ghost— your heart growing fond, to the point you would often leave ghost city just to bring the hurt back to bihuan. you would often bring back things of interest back to her as well; hair sticks, hanfus, cheongsams, earrings, necklaces, rings, whatever you thought he would like.
