"Oh, it's about time now," Bi Yao hummed. "Don't be too surprised, and don't think too hard about it. Happy birthday, little one!"
Anji had no time to question what she meant as she saw Bi Yao waving at her. Before she could form the question in her mind, she felt a disconnect between her present reality and her mind.
…
"… Even if my soul was shattered into a million fragments, I want to save these poor souls!"
The voice was unfamiliar, and Anji could not see anything. The fog of sleep was still heavy in her mind. The voice was familiar, but it was not her father. She did not know many men, but this man's voice was even more familiar than her own father's.
Her father? Who was he again? For some reason, Anji could not recall. Who was she again? She only knew her name was Anji, but could not recall her family name. She knew she had a family. She must have a family if she knew she had a father. Yet, nothing came to mind. How strange.
