"This was the seventh time he had buried her with his own hands, after killing her with his own hands."
"Meng Po sighed, turned around, and picked up the bowl of soup. My face at that moment was reflected on its clear surface. This colorless, tasteless remedy that erased memories would cleanly sweep away the mortal world from my heart. I drank it all in one gulp, then, without looking back, stepped onto the path to being slaughtered by him with his own hands for the eighth time."
When the Three Lives fall, reincarnation begins, cycling endlessly as cause and effect repay one another.
In my eighth life, I thought I had already seen through everything, yet this ending brought a tear to my eye.
In my ninth life, I thought my memories of the past were enough to defy fate, yet those memories left me nowhere to retreat.
In my tenth life, I thought my heart was still as a pool of dead water, yet a twist from the start stirred a ripple within it.
Destiny is destiny. Niang wanted to protect, Qing Yi wanted to protect, but the protagonist chose what fate asked her to choose. I'm also writing a novel. But I don't know if it can be written so well. I like your writing and will continue to follow you!
My life is pitiful, no wonder the sound of the piano is empty and cold
The wedge is very attractive, and I want to know why I have to kill my lover eight times with my own hands...