I once tied up a marriage with kindness, and my husband, Shen Jinye, always looked at me as if he were looking at an object that shouldn't exist. Until he blocked a fatal blow for me and died in my arms.
When I open my eyes again, I am eighteen years old again.
The sunlight in the classroom was dazzling, and the boy next to him had a scar on his brow and cold eyes.
The system said, I want to save him.
But his happiness index is negative: -20.
Later I realized that it was not disgust.
It is the silence that a deeply loved person has long been accustomed to before fate takes its toll.
"Go back to the year when you first hated me."
"This time, let me see you clearly."
