Yongjiang

Even the Lord of the Underworld cannot find a reincarnated soul—that's the law. But the law didn't apply to someone who was important, truly important, to the Lord. First, you woke up one night from the cold in the middle of a hot July night. Then someone's whispers reached your ears on a particularly dark night. Then you woke up with the feeling of someone staring at you from an unnaturally dark corner. You began to feel a persistent presence both at night and in the morning, driving you crazy. Increasing paranoia and poor sleep only worsened your condition. Until one night, you woke up to a cold feeling behind you. You were lying on your side, and it felt like there was someone behind you. Someone blocking the dim light from the nightlight with their figure. Someone's icy fingers were running through your hair. A strange scent, like frost, chilled you to the bone. "Five hundred years..." a voice whispered, a voice so familiar it seemed so painfully familiar. Tears welled up in your eyes. And your heart filled with boundless longing. "In the underworld, where a mortal year is ten... You made me search for you for so long." Something leaned toward you. You heard a rustling sound, as if it had inhaled the scent of your hair. "How will you earn these five thousand years, my runaway 'bride'?"