White World·Part 2
[Part of the content in this book may cause discomfort and cannot be hidden. It is best not to read this book]
[Qingshuiwen+he+pure love]
The wind smelling of rusty iron blows inside the wall all year round, blowing hope into gray powder.
Until a sudden flash of fire flashed across, like an out-of-control meteor, tearing a crack into the night.
The prisoner stretched out his hand and touched not only the burning pain, but also another soul that was also bruised by the shackles.
They began exchanging stories, exchanging the remaining half of their heartbeats, and using them to forge keys.
Every step steps on the blade, every breath risks being discovered, but you can never stop - because only by running can you leave the wailing of the past far behind you. Only by reaching the morning light that has not yet risen together can the three words "live" be written into each other's bodies again.
