Do You Like the Old Me or the Present Me?

Hong Zhen was driven away.

The woman, carrying an oil lamp, slowly returned to the house. Unbeknownst to her, in another room, her son He Zhao was not asleep.

He Zhao, a young boy, sat on his bed, his fists clenched, his slender body trembling slightly. The courtyard of He Zhao's house was small, and his room was near the gate. He had heard every word of the conversation outside.

His mother had been humiliated for his sake... He Zhao could not allow this to happen under any circumstances.

"The day after tomorrow, we'll leave the city..."

He Zhao sighed and lay on his bed, pondering what to do. He tossed and turned, unable to sleep. In a half-conscious state, he felt his consciousness being guided upwards, gradually leaving his body and entering another world.