Today, the hostess, has she lost her studies?

only……

She is so tired.

Tired, sleepy, exhausted, she wanted to speak, but no matter what, she couldn't.

Blood soaked her dress and the ground beneath her.

She slowly closed her eyes.

Her pale face was covered with tears, and even a large amount of blood loss could not conceal her original noble and delicate temperament and identity.

She was a princess, a kind-hearted princess who was held in the palm of everyone's hands in the past, and who should have enjoyed all the good things in the world.

A trick of fate, but she was left alone to die miserably in a foreign land.

No one knew she was here, and no one would save her.

All hope is gone.

No gods descended, no miracles occurred.

The black shadow stood in front of her, just like that, watching her, bit by bit, until the last moment of his life.

The blood flowing from the body is rapidly oxidized by the air, turns black, and blends with the soil.

She closed her eyes, stained with crystal tears, like a delicate porcelain doll. Perhaps she was already dreaming of an extremely beautiful dream.

In the dream, she was still the carefree little princess, loved and loved, living freely and without restraint.

In the dream, her father was playing with her, riding horses with her, and her mother was embroidering clothes for her and gently telling her bedtime stories.

Her good sister Meng Niang would cover her when she ran out for fun. When she climbed over the wall and jumped out, she could see her brother's stern face and his extremely serious and worried expression...

Is this picture a dream?
Why does it feel so real to her?
The moment she closed her eyes, she seemed to see A Niang coming to pick her up.

Aniang stretched out her hand to take her home.

She no longer has to be afraid, and her body no longer hurts.

It’s so warm, grandma’s embrace, so warm.

She missed her so much and her arms.She wanted to tell her that she had a terrible, terrible nightmare and that she was scared.

But now, seeing A Niang, she is no longer afraid.

She curled her lips slightly, and her crystal tears slid down, dripping onto the blood-covered ground.

"Pa-ta-ta-ta..."

……

……

……

The bright red dress, the cold corpse, the pale yet delicate and beautiful face, she died - in this huge ghost mausoleum, there was no miracle that could be expected.

The wind blows gently, as if there is no end, blowing endlessly.

The slow wind, like a naughty and heartless ghost, blew through her beautiful and soft hair and her dry, salty eyelashes.

The red dress was fluttering slightly, but it could not move her fingers even a little bit. She closed her eyes and seemed to be asleep, but just fell asleep.

The dark shadow that looked at her left not long after, leaving her body untouched.

His body was cold and stiff, just lying there quietly.

No one came to bury it, and no one came to pay homage. Even though it was covered by the wind and sand, no one cared.

The wind is blowing, the fog is approaching, and the years outside are changing without knowing when. In the ghost mausoleum, time and space seem to be stagnant.

There is no sunshine, no warmth, it is always damp, gloomy and lifeless.

Occasionally, someone would enter by mistake outside, but as soon as they came in, they would be eaten before they could even get close to the body in the red dress.

"Click, click, click—" The vaginas here are always extremely hungry and compete for food.

And the corpse, just like this, gradually decayed and turned into water in the unconscious years, exposing the delicate white bones of snow color.

The red dress, the white bones, everything that remains seems to tell the vivid life that once existed here.