At twelve o'clock in the evening, Liang Xinyi left the Public Security Bureau, and she had a psychological shadow on all the dark corners, all the way along the lighted place to the main street, and then quickly took a taxi back to her residence.

When she got home, she turned on all the lights in the apartment as soon as she got home, and then sat on the sofa in the living room with her knees folded and staring blankly.

After a while, she finally calmed down, so she got up from the couch and went into the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, she carefully lay down in the bathtub filled with hot water, opened the walkman next to the bathtub casually, and then closed her eyes slightly in Meng Feibai's singing, and let out a sigh of satisfaction.

Gradually, the light in front of her gradually dimmed, Meng Feibai's voice gradually drifted away, and she fell into a deep sleep.

In her sleep, she returned to the alley that had left a deep psychological shadow on her.

The boundless darkness and the heavy smell of blood filled her nostrils, she opened her eyes slightly, and saw a familiar figure split in half by the moonlight, half hidden in the darkness, the other half holding a beating heart, as a smile appeared on the angular side face, the heart suddenly exploded in her frightened eyes, turning into a mist of blood, and after feeling a sudden warmth on her face, she fainted again.

"Ahh

In the bright and warm bathroom, Liang Xinyi woke up suddenly, her frightened eyes looked around her surroundings, and it was not until Meng Feibai's soft singing voice came into her ears that she slowly calmed down.

"Whew..."

After a long sigh of relief, she leaned her head against the bathtub and reached out her hands to gently pat her cheeks. A pair of tired eyes unconsciously looked at the walkman next to the bathtub.

Are those images my dreams, or are they my real memories?

A huge question came to her mind.

At the same time, the Apocalypse Roundtable was located in the Kyoto branch.

Meng Feibai had just handed over the head of the infected person to the research department, and he had done a full body examination there.

After completing the inspection, he glanced at the time, then gave up the idea of going to talk to Gurhan or Ling Mingyue, and returned to the apartment alone after leaving the underground base.

Meng Feibai was very busy in the next few days, during the day he ran around to participate in business activities in the area under the leadership of Han Shuyan, at night he followed the band teacher to rehearse the repertoire to be sung at the fan meeting on Saturday, and at night he did some combat practice alone at the base, leaving him less than three hours to sleep every day.

Compared with the busy Meng Feibai, Liang Xinyi is much more boring, because of the failure of the interview with Meng Feibai, her already boring work has become even more lackluster, in addition to doing chores in the office every day, she is lying on the desk and thinking nonsense.

And the one thing she thought about the most was whether the scene she saw in her dream that day was real, and the person in the dream could really be him?

Well, it must be just my own dream, where can there be an artist who abuses and kills gangsters and then pinches other people's hearts with his bare hands, and he is such a perfect little idol in his mind.

It seems that I have watched too many fantasy romance dramas recently, and my mind is full of dreamy Mary Sue scenes.

Liang Xinyi, who was lying in front of her work, showed a self-deprecating smile on the corner of her mouth, shook her head to dispel the unrealistic thoughts in her mind, raised her head and chest, and posed as if she was working seriously.

......

Saturday, 12 p.m.

Kyoto Tengen Theater.

In the backstage dressing room, Meng Feibai sat in front of the mirror while letting the stylist touch up his makeup, while thinking about the application of telekinesis in his head.

Behind him, Han Shuyan, who was wearing a high ponytail, was constantly communicating with various departments through the walkie-talkie to confirm various matters before the performance.

At this time, there are still two hours before the official start of the fan meeting.

An hour later, Meng Feibai, who was ready to go, received a notice from Han Shuyan.

"Let's get ready to go on stage, the audience is already full."

Meng Feibai, who was closing his eyes and recuperating, opened his eyes, looked at Han Shuyan suspiciously, and asked:

"Do you want to start early?"

Han Shuyan nodded, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and said:

"It's not an official performance in the first place, there's no need to be so tight on the time card, the audience is full of your fans, and it's not good to make them wait too long, and the other departments are also ready, so let's start early."

"Oh, okay."

Meng Feibai nodded indifferently, got up and finally sorted out his appearance in the mirror, then turned around and left the dressing room.

On the way to the front desk, Meng Feibai faintly heard the shouts of the audience, which made him raise the corners of his mouth slightly, and the pace under his feet was a little easier.

With more and more clear cheers, Meng Feibai came to the back of the stage curtain, and it was still dark on the stage at this time, so he quietly poked his head out from behind the curtain and secretly observed the scene under the stage.

Under the stage, fans who had already learned that the performance was about to start were excitedly chanting Meng Feibai's name, and various lantern signs with Meng Feibai's name were constantly waving in the air.

Meng Feibai withdrew his gaze, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It's finally here, a stage that belongs only to me.

He opened his eyes, and there was a look of confidence and joy in his eyes.

"Junjie, Duoduo, I hope you can also be here, I still have a lot of songs I want to sing to you, and I have a lot of glory I want to share with you..."

As he muttered to himself, the lights in the theater dimmed.

The fans sitting in the audience waved light sticks and light signs in their hands, and kept chanting Meng Feibai's name.

In the dark, Meng Feibai took the microphone handed by the staff next to him and walked slowly to the center of the stage.

A rustic light fell from the stage, coating Meng Feibai's figure in a white performance costume with a layer of fluorescence.

Meng Feibai slowly opened his eyes, and he was greeted by a uniform message of support and a sea of colorful lights in the dark.

He bowed slightly to the audience, then picked up the microphone and put it to his mouth, and suddenly, the cheers from the audience suddenly stopped.

In the silence, Meng Feibai's cold voice sounded.

“Dear Friend。”

As soon as Meng Fei's words fell, the soft accompaniment slowly sounded, and the fans in the audience screamed excitedly again.

In the first row of the auditorium, there are all kinds of cameras like long guns and short guns, and their owners are none other than the media reporters who are here today.

As Meng Feibai's figure appeared in the light, most reporters had begun to find an angle and start taking pictures seriously.

Near the edge of the auditorium, a reporter was screaming as if no one was around, clicking the shutter of the camera in his hand.

Suddenly, several colleagues who couldn't stand the noise raised their heads and cast unkind glances at the source of the noise.