Lin Huachen is a well-known cold-faced director in the industry. There is a cold light under the camera, and his eyes are always covered with frost that cannot be melted away.
When he was sixteen years old, his father smashed the skulls of his mother and younger brother, crushing his last delusion about "home".
At the age of twenty-eight, he was like a thorn growing in the ruins, wrapping his flesh and blood with sharp thorns.
Four-year-old Li Diandian huddled in the corner of the corridor, always imagining that an Ultraman would run out of the darkness and save him from dire straits.
Being dependent on others, he forced himself to mature early and learned to treat everyone diplomatically.
Thirty-one-year-old Zhuang Xu is so busy every day that his feet never touch the floor.
He numbed himself with work and tried to forget his lost relatives.
The thing he regrets most is that he brought his nephew over but failed to take good care of him.
But he didn't expect that the little bit of blood left by his sister would be abused under his nose.
……
"Are people like us not worthy of being loved?"
Lin Huachen stood at the edge of the building, his tone cold.
Zhuang Xu shook his head. His expression was cold, but the kiss made his eyes burn: "Look, Diandian is here."
In the crooked flower pot on the windowsill, the buds are pushing through the cracked soil.
Three broken souls huddled in no man's land, but they heard the sound of the flowering season coming.
——
Director Leng Yu receives x cold-faced, hot-hearted, domineering attack x precocious little angel
"Love is the spine that grows out of the ruins, allowing us to finally straighten our spines and catch each other's fallen lives for the rest of our lives."
