Bai Mingyi's right wrist is covered with scars.
He couldn't remember when he started cutting. I just remember that every time the blade cuts down, the voice in my head stops.
He keeps a notebook filled with synthetic pathways for energetic materials. He has a list of all the people who have hurt him.
He thought his end was an explosion.
Then Jiang Weiwen came.
The undifferentiated boy couldn't smell the bitter taste of his pheromones and couldn't understand the device diagram on his notebook, but he would put rice balls on his table every morning.
"More," he said.
Bai Mingyi didn't say thank you.
But he started counting the days when he wouldn't be using a knife.
The first day, the second day, the third day...
What he didn't know was that something was slowly settling.
Not hate.
It's something else.
Purpose: redemption