Two months later, when recalling what happened that night, Baotian still cried silently, although now, he was not much better, and he was in a daze and listless all day long, as if he had not yet fully awakened from that nightmare.

He suffered from a cold that day. He did not follow Zhao Zimai to the Old Summer Palace, but stayed in the mansion to rest. He covered his body with two large quilts and sweated all over his body. Just after midnight, just as he was soft and half asleep and half awake, he suddenly heard a noise from the yard, and there was still a vague crying sound.

Baotian woke up all of a sudden, and ran out of the house without even having time to put on his clothes. He followed the sound to the front hall. He saw Zhao Zimai. The person who was alive two hours ago was now held in Zhao Wen'an's arms, his face was pale and his eyes were closed. His two thick eyebrows soaked in water looked like they were painted by green indians, and he looked thrillingly horizontally.

He was dead, and his clothes were dripping with water downwards, and his feet were not wearing shoes and socks.

Baotian was soft on the ground, and after tremblingly shouting "Young Master" in his mouth, he crawled forward and reached out to pull Zhao Zimai's arm, but was shocked by a shrill smile on Zhao Wen'an's face, and he timidly took his hand back.

"Baotian, look at your young master's feet, are they good?"

Zhao Wen'an said something he couldn't understand. The young master was gone, why did the master only care about his feet? Could it be that he was stimulated and was confused?

Of course, the young master's feet were fine. Not to mention his feet, he didn't even find a wound on him. He was still as beautiful as before. The only difference was that he would never open his eyes soaked in tenderness.

Grace came from the bottom of his heart, and Baotian could not help himself and almost fainted, but at this moment, a figure passed by him. When everyone was not aware of it, he snatched Zhao Zimai from Zhao Wen'an's arms, held him in both hands and walked towards the backyard.

"After all the time I die, I will die again. One or two of them will be deafened by you."

With a familiar voice and familiar figure, Baotian's body trembled, his head was neither dizzy nor tears nor he shed, "Great God?"

***

Zhao Zimai was rescued, to be precise, he was rescued from one point of nine points.

That night, the girl Baotian didn't know whether she should call Sang or Mu Xiaowu, hugged Zhao Zimai, who was growing apart than him, and walked to Tingxue Hall like a flat ground. When the others following behind had no time to stop him, he threw his head down into the well like a piece of wood.

Everyone was shocked, but she blinked her bright eyes and looked at them, saying something no one could refute, "If he died, he could not die again, what are you afraid of?"

Zhao Wen'an decided to let her give it a try, so she threw a copper needle into the well and sang the most affectionate song in the coldest voice.

"The soul is back! You can't trust the east, but you can find some souls..."

"The soul is back! There cannot be some things in the south. If you carve black teeth, you can get human flesh to worship it, and use its bones as a croaker..."

"The soul is back! The harm of the West is to make the quicksand a thousand miles away. The soul is back! The north cannot stop, increase the ice and the snow is round a thousand miles away..."

The wellhead lit up and a faint white light appeared. Baotian saw the corners of her mouth twitching, but soon returned to calm, suppressing the ecstasy in her heart. She stretched out her hand, but did not read the familiar mantra, but said softly, "Zhao Zimai, come back, okay?"

It looked like a tone of coaxing a child, but Baotian saw that Zhao Wen'an, who had just been a little desperate, suddenly tensed the lines of his body, raised his toes slightly, and looked at the wellhead intently. However, his hands were still shaking like before, as if they were not going to be better.

"Zhao Zimai." She called out again, and the sound fell, but the white light at the wellhead suddenly dissipated. Just when Baotian thought she had failed, a sound of water suddenly sounded in the well. Someone floated up from the bottom of the well and was slapping the water surface with force.

***

"How do you know that the soul that the young master lost is in the well of Tingxue Hall?" A few days later, on a somewhat hot afternoon, after seeing Mu Xiaowu coming out of the young master's house, Baotian couldn't help but ask her a question that he hadn't figured out for several days.

Mu Xiaowu sat down beside him, held his chin and looked at the swaying shadow of the tree in front of him, and slowly said, "Actually, he lost a trace of his soul, and I have to take some responsibility."

On that day ten years ago, Sang finally found Di Zhen’s trace in this imperial city located in the east. In order to confuse it, he hid here for several years. Finally, he hid in the body of a young girl and swallowed her soul and took over the body.

The girl was Zitong. That day, she sat alone by the well, and before she could even fiddle with her hair that was splattered by the wind, she was taken away by the monk in her best years.

"So, it was not Zitong who was pushed into the well by Zhao Zimai, but who occupied her body. Di Zhen. He naturally did not kill her. How could a dead person die again? It was Di Zhen who killed her." Mu Xiaowu's eyes suddenly became a little longer. She remembered what happened ten years ago, but she didn't expect that these things would happen to him and her in such a coincidence.

"When Zitong fell into the water, I also found it. I was behind him, looking at the demonized eyes in the well. Zimai did not find me at that time, but Di Zhen saw me, so he tried to kill me, killing one thousand enemies and hurting himself by 800, but had to use poisonous moves. Perhaps, Zimai is the person who is "responsive" that the great monk often talked about. He blocked me intentionally or unintentionally. Di Zhen's magic trick passed through his palm and hit me. I escaped from death because of his block, and because of this block, he lost a trace of soul and fell into this well."

"This soul wipe finally saved the young master's life, although..." Baotian had not yet recalled the shock, and suddenly heard Zhao Zimai's voice coming from the house. The adult voice was completely a child's tone.

"Dad, the word "flag" is very difficult to write. My son has practiced it many times, but he still can't write it well."

"Zimai doesn't know that the most difficult word in the world is actually his own name." Zhao Wen'an's tone was patient and gentle, which he had never given to him before and now he is desperately trying to make up for.

Fortunately, it's not too late.

With three souls and six spirits, only one strand is left, how could a person be the one he used to be? But even if he is foolish and stupid, a twenty-year-old man is like a child who is not yet enlightened, they will still hold him in his hand and treasure him.

"It's okay." Baotian's heart was relieved because of the deep affection between father and son.

Yes, it's okay.

Mu Xiaowu looked at the familiar tall figure in the window, narrowed a pair of smiling eyes slightly, and repeated it with him in his heart. (The end of this volume)
Chapter completed!