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Zhang Rui's home is located on the outskirts of a small town, with no particularly special scenery around, just an ordinary residential area. The exterior of the house itself feels gloomy, as it is an old two-story house with gray paint peeling off from the walls, showing its age.
Upon entering, you would find the living room to be very simply furnished, with some old wooden furniture and minimal decoration. The sofa is outdated, as if time has frozen in this room, and the curtains are always tightly closed, not letting in any sunlight. The atmosphere in the living room seems to have solidified into a kind of still silence.
The restaurant is connected to the kitchen, but it always feels cold and empty. The dining table is neatly set with utensils, but lacks the warmth of a home. The kitchen equipment is old, and the sounds of culinary skills are rarely heard.
Zhang Rui slowly returned to his home, which was devoid of warmth. This so-called home was just a cold transit station for him. His foster parents, Mrs. Chen and Mr. Wu, treated him as if he were invisible. Their care and love seemed to be only for tax purposes, with no other meaning beyond that.
Whenever he returns to this home, he can feel the cold atmosphere. Mrs. Chen always treats him with cold eyes, and Mr. Wu completely ignores his existence. Their nurturing relationship is like a desert, devoid of any vitality.
Zhang Rui can only quietly retreat to his room, his own little sanctuary. There, his closest family member, a cat named "Shadow," awaits his arrival. Zhang Rui's room is a simple and dark space, reflecting his lonely life. The walls are painted in a dark gray, and the windows are always covered with heavy curtains, hardly letting any sunlight in. There is little decoration, only some bookshelves filled with various comics and novels, his cherished collection.
The bed is the main piece of furniture in the room, a simple single bed with the blanket always neatly arranged, as if it were his only possession. Next to the bed, there is a small table with a dim table lamp, where he often reads or writes in the quiet of the night. The most striking feature is a small bookshelf at the head of the bed, holding his collection of books on mysticism and paranormal phenomena. These books allow him to escape from reality and immerse himself in a mysterious world.
The whole room seems to exude a sense of loneliness, but it is also his sanctuary, a place where he can peacefully contemplate and escape from reality. He lies on the bed, embracing the darkness, confiding his pain to the cat. He tells the cat about his loneliness at school, the indifference of his foster parents, and his doubts about his origins and destiny. The cat simply listens quietly, but for him, it is the only being he can confide in, a presence that gives him some comfort.
This home, for him, is just a cold shroud, and the only warmth comes from the company of a cat.
The cat's body is warm and soft, like a living bundle of warmth. In the quiet night, the cat's rhythmic purring is like a melodious dreamy music, gradually entering his ears.
His fingers gently touched the cat's soft fur, feeling the endless tranquility. Zhang Rui's eyes gradually became heavy, and his thoughts began to drift into the distance. The cat's purring seemed like a magical spell, leading him into a fantastical dream.
In the dream, Zhang Rui felt the mysterious atmosphere of the forest. The trees stood tall, and the starry lights twinkled on the treetops, as if countless little stars were scattered among the branches, adding astonishing beauty to the jungle. The cat turned into a shadow, gracefully dancing in the starlight, like a dancer.
Zhang Rui followed the cat and crossed the forest, meeting the residents of this mysterious woodland. First, he encountered a tall tree spirit, seemingly made of tree trunks, with a gentle smile on its face. It greeted Zhang Rui with its branch-like arms, as if welcoming his arrival.
Next, a fox spirit leaped out from the bushes, its fur soft as silk, silently approaching Zhang Rui with a mischievous glint in its eyes. It wagged its tail at Zhang Rui, seemingly wanting to play with him.
Another faint light flickered among the trees, it turned out to be a group of fireflies dancing in the night sky, adding a touch of color to the jungle.
However, the most impressive thing was the pure white fox. Its fur was as pure as snow, and its eyes were as bright as sapphires. When Zhang Rui noticed the fox, it suddenly stopped and gazed at him. At that moment, Zhang Rui felt a strange connection, as if there was some special bond between them.
Then, something strange happened. The mark on Zhang Rui's hand, the mysterious oracle bone script character "Sky" began to burn as if triggered by some kind of power. He tried to make contact with the fox, wanting to understand the message it was conveying, but suddenly he was overwhelmed by pain, his palm throbbing unbearably.
The fox's gaze became even more focused, as if it wanted to tell him something, but Zhang Rui's suffering was too much to bear. In the end, he woke up, his forehead soaked with sweat. The images from the dream and the message from the white fox still lingered in his mind, causing him to ponder the mysterious symbol and the painful mark.
Zhang Rui nervously looked at the mark on his hand, which had been there since he was a child. He carefully examined it, but no matter how he looked, he couldn't understand its origin and meaning. This mark had always been a mystery in his life, never with any answers.
His gaze shifted to his watch and he realized it was almost nine thirty. He quickly stood up, realizing the night's adventure was about to begin. He felt some worry about the enthusiasm of Li Minghan and Yang Dawei, but at the same time, he was filled with curiosity and anticipation. He hurriedly left home and set out on the journey to the abandoned temple. The night breeze was cool, and the stars dotted the sky, adding a sense of mystery to his adventure. On this night, Zhang Rui embarked on a journey full of unknowns, carrying with him the images from his dreams and that mysterious mark as he moved forward.
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