The comments said I was deeply affectionate, I just added points by using an alternate account.

The entire city was bound by this well.

The old man opened his arms, and seven red marks shaped like hidden buttons lit up on the ground beneath the child's feet.

Guan Jinyue grabbed the child's hand, but the red mark made her fingertips go numb.

Her sword slashed at the red mark, only raising a cloud of dust.

The child was dragged toward the well. He didn't cry out in pain, but just desperately looked up at the coffin.

"Teacher, can my bones really help everyone live?"

The child's voice was very soft, yet each word carried on the wind.

"If I could, would I not be a useless person?"

Guan Jinyue grabbed his arm, the veins on the back of his hand bulging: "Don't listen to them."

She hates these kinds of forced sacrifice scenarios the most.

Even if it's fake, a phantom that has already passed away, she doesn't want to see the same scene played out before her eyes again.

The child looked at her, then at the coffin.

"But sister, the teacher said that everyone should have a place to go back to."

He looked down at the red marks on his feet, his eyes reddening.

"If I don't have a home, can I open a road for someone else to go home?"

Guan Jinyue ignored his negative words and held onto his arm tightly, refusing to let go.

The seven red marks shaped like hidden buttons grew brighter and deeper, like wounds branded on the ground, slowly dragging the child toward the bone well.

The child's shoes left two shallow marks on the sand.

He stopped struggling as much.

That's the most troublesome part.

If a person wants to live, others can lend them a hand.

But if a person begins to believe that their own death is meaningful, no one can sway them.

Chen Guan looked at him, his hand still on the coffin lid.

The old man stood on the stone platform, half of his face covered with bone powder, his wrinkles filled with white powder.

He stared at Chen Guan's hand and said in a hoarse voice, "Sir, you taught him to read, so you should teach him what righteousness is."

Chen Guan glanced at the old man.

"The greater good?"

The old man raised his hand and pointed around.

Those kneeling people, those tightly closed doors, those faces hiding behind window cracks—all were captured in his words with that single finger.

"The whole city is here."

Chen Guan asked, "So?"

The old man looked down at the child: "His life was exchanged for the lives of so many others. Isn't it worth it?"

The child's throat moved; he heard it, and so did the people by the well.

And so those hidden voices resurfaced.

"Seven bucks, don't blame us."

"We'll put up a sign for you once the door opens."

"Your teacher will remember you in the future."

"You're not useless; you saved us."

One sentence after another, like an invisible hand, pushing the child into the well.

The child's eyes were terribly red, but he was still trying his best to straighten his shoulders.

He turned to look at Chen Guan and whispered, "Teacher, if I jump, will you be able to go home?"

Chen Guan knew that the real man in the long robe had probably stood here before, and perhaps had also heard this phrase.

Perhaps on some long-gone day, that teacher was unable to give the child the answer they wanted.

At the bottom of the bone well, the shadow of the door became increasingly clear.

It was a vertical door.

The door frame was made of layers of bone patterns, and the red light shining through the cracks in the door climbed up the well wall and flowed down the ground to the child's feet.

The old man raised his hand, palm down.

"Seven, come here."

The child slid forward a short distance.

Guan Jinyue's wrist made a very soft sound as she gripped the sword, and her blade struck down once more.

The blade sliced ​​into the red mark, and the light of the seven hidden clasps dimmed for only a moment before lighting up again, forcing her back half a step.

She grabbed the child, but her arm was pulled painfully by the door's texture.

He gritted his teeth and didn't utter a sound.

Guan Jinyue's face darkened completely.

She looked at the coffin and said, "This thing doesn't recognize external forces; it's set its sights on this child."

Chen Guan hummed in agreement; he had noticed it too.

The rules here don't favor brute force; at least with Guan Jinyue's strength, he couldn't win this tug-of-war by ignoring the risks.

The old man looked at the coffin and said in a more serious tone, "Sir, you changed the sect's inscription back then, so you should understand the sect's rules. Once a living member is chosen by the sect, no one can stop them. You said back then that even that coffin wouldn't do it."

Chen Guan suddenly found it a little funny.

The man in the long robe in this old video really caused him a lot of trouble.

Can recognize characters.

They will change their formation.

Carrying a coffin on his back.

He also said many things that sounded very important.

The problem is, he doesn't know any of them, just like a primary school student plunging headfirst into the college entrance examination venue.

The people here are always babbling in incomprehensible languages, almost like Situ Ming's ancient-style mini-lectures.

The red marks under the child's feet tightened again; he had been dragged to within three steps of the well.

The thin man clutched his chest as he got up, blood still smeared on the corner of his mouth.

He saw the child being dragged into the well, and his mouth twisted into a malicious glee.

"Sir, it's too late."

He was panting, pointing at the child and laughing loudly: "The door recognized him, the city recognized him, even he himself recognized him. You can protect him for a while, but you can't protect him forever."

Chen Guan looked at him.

The tall, thin man subconsciously suppressed his laughter, but still stubbornly held his neck.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Did I say something wrong? Even if you take him away today, when the typhoon comes tomorrow, the people in the city will still go looking for him."

Chen Guan said, "You all really like to speak up for the sect."

The tall, thin man was taken aback.

Chen Guan lifted his foot and walked towards the bone well: "A bunch of useless things, all they do is help a dead thing bully the living."

With each step taken, the patterns on the city gates brighten one more point.

Deep in the street, the doors of the houses began to shake, as if countless people were pushing them open from the inside, and countless unseen hands were pressing them down from the outside.

As the coffin approached, the child finally shed tears.

"Teacher, you...you must take good care of yourself, leave this city, and go home."

Chen Guan stopped in front of him, reached out, and took the half-eaten hard cake from the child's arms.

The child was stunned.

Chen Guan broke the cake in half, and the crumbs fell into his palm.

"You're saving this for dinner?"

The child didn't understand, but nodded nonetheless.

Chen Guan stuffed the half-cake back into his hand.

"Then let's eat tonight."

After he finished speaking, he raised his hand and tapped the child's forehead.

"The living eat, the dead open doors. If you still want to eat, don't rush to become the dead for them."

The child stared blankly at him.

The cries, curses, and the sound of bone bells by the well all receded at that moment.

The wrinkles on the old man's face were taut.

"Sir, you can't teach him like that."

Chen Guan turned around: "Then how should I teach him?"

The old man said in a deep voice, "Teach him to die for the people."

Chen Guan looked at the bone well: "If you really like people so much, why are it always other people's children you send in?"

"Furthermore, I am the teacher, and it is none of your business to interfere in my classes."

Upon hearing this, many people around the well lowered their heads.

The middle-aged man who had previously shouted that the whole city would die opened his mouth, but couldn't utter a word.

The old man's face darkened: "These are city regulations."

Chen Guan nodded, looking convinced: "Yes, the city rules are very useful."

He looked at the crowd kneeling by the well.

"Being hungry is a city rule."

"I'm scared, it's the city regulations."

"If you want to live, that's also a city rule."

The red thread beside his feet climbed up the surface of his shoes, only to be stomped off by him.

"But when it's your turn to go into the well, the city rules aren't so important anymore."

"A bunch of cowards."