Hold Your Hand and Travel Thousands of Miles

The cold air from the bathroom tiles crawled up his spine. Shen Wenlang stared at the blood drops constantly pouring out of his wrists, as if he was watching a slow-motion movie that had nothing to do with him. The blood droplets fell into the bathtub filled with cold water, creating a fine red mist, which was quickly diluted by the new water flow, as if his seventeen years of life had always been such a painless existence...