His fingers moved, and the dazzling sunlight hit his eyes as he tried to open them. He raised his hand to block the light and looked bewildered at the scene before him, his brow furrowing. Shen Zhonglei felt pain at the back of his head and wiped it. His hand felt something sticky—bright red blood.
A brilliant fire-red color in the distance caught his attention. He unsteadily stood up and walked towards it. She had five-colored short hair, each shade radiating a unique brilliance under the sunlight. A fire-red midriff-baring outfit adorned her, making her look enchanting and vibrant. Looking at her beautiful face, he felt a sense of familiarity. As he tried to remember who she was, his head suddenly hurt intensely. He crouched down, holding his painful head, discovering injuries not just at the back but also two bumps on the left side—one egg-sized, another yolk-sized. Confused, he muttered to himself, “Where am I? Who is she? Who am I? How did I get hurt?” The only familiar person was the woman lying before him. He reached out and tapped her cheek. “Hey! Wake up! Hey! Wake up!”
Shen Zhonglei dragged Shan Xiaoya into the forest, hiding in the grass behind a tree trunk and looking out of the forest. A large number of armored soldiers approached from afar, their eyes having lost their fighting spirit, dispirited and scattered like loose sand, panic-stricken and wanting to escape the pursuit of the troops behind them.
