The sound of continuous rain was Ye Duan's only clock. He weaved gentle lies among the damp bookshelves and carved verses on the skin of strange women with an iris-patterned pen - until Andersuri broke in like a prey and revealed the dust-sealed silent truth.
Every drop of rain here is a memory flowing back.
The yellowed diary whispers in the mildew, withered iris roots crawl all over the iron gate, and the brighter the paint in Ye Duan's pen, the more like an epitaph carved for a taboo name. Andersuri glimpsed the answer between the kiss and the violence: some people drowned in the rainy season, others were trapped in the sunny day, and the stakes in this game are whether they will sink soberly or be reborn madly.
Fatal Attraction × Psychological Maze × Rainy Night Mystery
When touch becomes an anchor and lies turn into oxygen, who can escape unscathed in the chess game of intertwined virtuality and reality?
——"If the rain never stops, are you willing to drown in my lies?"
