Eleven years is enough time to completely reshape a person from flesh and blood to fingerprints.
Standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, Shen Nanchen's body has been carefully sculpted - the raised cheekbones, the reshaped jawline, the deep eyes custom-made with a scalpel, and even the lines on the fingertips that will never look back - every part declares the death of the old self. The morning light outlines a cold and unfamiliar outline, which is completely different from the seventeen-year-old boy with soft eyes and jumping around on the court.
Only he knew that beneath the layers of disguise, his heart, tempered by the sea of fire, was still beating for the same name and the same betrayal that burned everything. The ashes of the past are buried deep in the bone marrow and have now condensed into indestructible ice.
He's back. No longer passive waiting prey.
Intention: obsession