Immortality: Starting with a grave, I'm invincible when burying corpses.

The man was such a good person. Just a few days ago, he was smiling at her, patiently teaching her all sorts of things, and painting a beautiful future for her.

How come, just a few days later, the man appeared in a prison van, covered in filth, enduring such unbearable suffering in broad daylight?

Why? Why is it always like this?

My parents are like this, and so is my husband... Why...?

The girl hugged her knees, her eyes reddening. She wanted to go out, to block the middle of the road, to speak out for her husband, to recount his grievances.

But the words her parents said before they died were still vivid in her mind.

"Live on, you must live on..."

Yes, she was just a prisoner who narrowly escaped death.

What difference is there between going out and a sheep entering a tiger's den?

The girl struggled to her feet, her steps unsteady, her slender legs clattering together.

She took two steps outside into the sunlight, then suddenly took five steps back, like a wounded little animal, wrapping herself in her clothes and burying herself.

The whispers continued on the street.

"You guys all say this prisoner is a good person, a great philanthropist, and that he was framed, but none of you have stood up to speak up for him. What, are you just all talk?" The first thug spoke in an unfriendly tone.

"That's treason, a crime punishable by the extermination of nine generations of one's family..." This was an old man leaning on a cane.

"To put it bluntly, aren't they just afraid of dying? They're all a bunch of cowards!" the thug said with disdain.

"What can I do? I have elderly parents and young children to support. Who will take care of them if I die?" This was the question posed by the middle-aged man at the beginning.

"That's right, that's right. I'm an old man, so I can die and that's it. But my children are still young, and I can't let them be a burden."

"A coward is a coward, don't make excuses for yourself!" the thug said agitatedly.

"Yes, we are cowards, but you are not?" The middle-aged man's face flushed red, and he became extremely agitated, even his tone of voice became more forceful.

It seemed that only in this way could he find even the slightest thing to prove himself.

The thug was silent for a moment, then looked at the middle-aged man and spoke slowly and deliberately.

"I haven't received any favors from him, so why should I speak up for him?"

As if a bucket of cold water had been poured over him, the middle-aged man was stunned for a moment. The arrogance he had managed to muster vanished in an instant, and he didn't know what to say for a long time.

Just then, a scholar squeezed out of the crowd. He had a hat that was half off and was dressed in disheveled clothes. He squeezed in front of the group and approached them amidst the thugs' surprised gazes.

"Brother, that's Master Zhuang, the one I told you I wanted to become his student! He's a really good person, a truly wonderful person, and he's taught me so much!"

The thug fell silent again, but this time he lowered his head first, then raised it again.

The moment he looked up, he suddenly grabbed the scholar's hands.

"Brother, you didn't become his student, did you?"

"I bowed, but Master Zhuang did not agree," the scholar shook his head.

The thug breathed a sigh of relief and patted the scholar on the shoulder.

"That's good, that's good, it's not good at all!"

"Brother, should we say a few words on behalf of Master Zhuang?" The scholar scratched his head.

The thug glared at the scholar, then gave the others an awkward smile.

"I'm a coward too."

From the highest point of the restaurant on one side, Han Sheng coldly observed everything.

"Bang!"

The teacup was smashed hard on the ground, spilling scalding hot tea all over the floor.

He looked at the other students of the Hanlin Academy, his tone indignant.

"Look, this is the person Lord Zhuang would risk his life to help..."

The prison van continued to move slowly forward, passing old men and women, hooligans and scholars, a middle-aged family, and the restaurant where Han Sheng was.

Zhuang Sheng lowered his head once again, and remained there with his head down, his mind filled with endless fantasies.

This time, he was fantasizing about the world of his dreams.

In that world, everyone lived in harmony, and the world was at peace.

In the dark corner, Wan Shu cried harder and harder.

She would stand up for a while, and then squat down again.

Tears soaked her clothes, and her eyes were bloodshot.

Until a beggar's voice rang in her ears.

"Sister Wan, is that Mr. Zhuang in the prison van...?"

"Mmm..." The girl's voice was full of sobs.

Another beggar approached.

"Mr. Zhuang is a good man. He tells wonderful stories, the steamed buns are delicious, and the blankets he brought us are very warm. It's so comfortable to sleep in the alley at night..."

The beggar who spoke first added a sentence.

"This month, not a single beggar in this area has died, whereas in the past, seven or eight would die every month."

"Mr. Zhuang is a really, really good person. Everyone wants to see the world in his story."

As if a string that cannot be accurately described in words had been touched, Wan Shu suddenly stood up.

"Stop talking! Stop talking! Please, stop saying anything! Neither of you are allowed to go anywhere. Wait here for me to come back!"

Wan Shu spoke very quickly, as if if she slowed down even a little, the anger in her heart would completely dissipate.

She forcefully pushed the two beggars down, tore her skirt, and tied their hands together while they looked at her with confusion.

She had intended to tie a knot that was impossible to tie, but as she was doing so, she seemed to remember something, and her eyes reddened again, so the knot she tied became a slipknot.

Although it was a bit difficult to untangle, the two of them were able to do it with a little effort.

She straightened up and reached inside her skirt, where a puppet lay.

That was the only thing her mother left her, a birthday present when she was seven years old, a small wooden puppet carved with their family of three.

This year, Wanshu is already nine years old.

She has grown up, become brave, and is able to struggle and survive in this world on her own.

No matter how hard or tiring it is, she can overcome it. She will only cry quietly in the dead of night, and when the next day dawns, she will wipe away her tears and work hard for a new day.

Wan Shu looked at the doll, her red eyes softening slightly.

She muttered to herself as she spoke to the doll.

"Father, Mother, I'm sorry... I probably won't be able to keep my promise to you. I'm so sorry..."

The girl spoke and cried as she tucked the puppet back into her arms.

She stood in the shadows of the alley, looking out at the sun-drenched street.

She wiped away her tears and forced a smile, just like every morning after she had cried before.

When Wanshu was very young, every time she woke up, there would be something she liked on her pillow.

When Wan Shu saw something she liked, she would smile.

At that time, her mother told her that her smile was beautiful and that she should greet each day with a smile from now on.

"Stop! All of you stop! Mr. Zhuang is innocent! He didn't harm anyone! Nor did he plot a rebellion... I want to appeal to the emperor!"