The enigmatic hands blurred the boundaries between Zhou Xuan's dreams and reality.
"Don't sleep too deeply, but don't wake too clearly either... Half-dream, half-awake is best."
Zhou Lingyi's voice was like a sleep-inducing lullaby, causing Zhou Xuan to yawn involuntarily, his eyelids drooping uncontrollably.
But he couldn't sleep too deeply. Just a few seconds after closing his eyes, a clear consciousness surged in, forcing him to open his eyes. However, the scene before him wasn't as clear as normal, as if veiled by a pale yellow chiffon.
The frames flowed before his eyes like a creepy old film—
—Zhou Lingyi held "those hands," singing an old song with an extremely strange tune, the words unclear. Honestly, the song wasn't pleasant, as if lacking the basic harmony between notes. Zhou Xuan found it quite jarring.
