Huo Zhifei, who lost his father at a young age, stretched out his hand and handed over all his wealth and life without reservation on the day of departure; Duan Liyan closed his palms, but he didn't know that the peaceful life was about to end at this moment. What he held in his hands was not only an unshirkable responsibility, but also the care and reluctance day and night...
The shackles of family ties, the fetters of identity, the consideration of the situation...
He tied her tightly to his side, holding on to the secret that only belonged to the two of them, laying out the layers of his own figurines to find a way out. Even if the future is uncertain and you have nothing, even if you make one mistake again and again, you will never recover...
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A bit bloody;
——Isn't it always like this...
A bit pretentious;
——Sure enough, there is no progress...
A bit novice;
——Well... That's all I've got...
It's a bit ridiculous...
——It's hopeless...
Intention: