I think that time will eventually slowly erode a person's memory, fade away a person's yearning, and smooth away all scars. History changes, the sun changes and the stars move, a bowl of bitter Meng Po soup...
After all, he still remembered the sword that pierced his heart.
"So what about gods? What about demons? There is nothing left in this world that I can miss anymore."
"I have nothing to say except I'm sorry."
"A dead man."
Watching this peerless and alluring face gradually wither in front of me, I couldn't feel any sadness, but that last smile gently stung my heart and made me feel suffocated. When I stood up absentmindedly and decided to leave, I realized that the blue gauze brushing my face was already soaked.