In the quaint room, Nian sat up from his bed, muttering to himself. He was about fifteen years old, with a handsome face, but his clear eyes were covered with bandages, as if they were injured.,"But others who cross over aren't noble princes or world-renowned heroes, so why am I just a blind man!",Lin Ling's face wore a wry smile, his soul took root within this vessel. He soon realized the original owner had been in a struggle with someone, accidentally killed in the fray. Most importantly, the original owner left him a pair of wounded eyes.。