Pity lives, lives because of pity.
The calamity is born, and the calamity is born.
Two people from different worlds are destined to be the handlers at both ends of the red line.
He let her go because of a birthday cake. Because of a necklace, he couldn't forget her.
After several struggles, he finally decided to step into her world and give up his dominance and freedom.
She was delighted and satisfied, thinking that they had finally crossed the dark chasm.
However, is the red line strong enough to withstand the ravages of the outside world?
Finally, at the end, she said: I was born out of pity for you.
But he smiled sadly: It's a pity that I can't survive my own disaster...
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Sometimes, I really admire myself for always being able to write short stories into novellas, and novellas into long novels, as if I can't stop the car once I tell a story. Hate, hate... This is how I got the calcification of the ligament in my shoulder, but I am still filling in the words tirelessly, even though not many people appreciate it. I have paid too much for it and lost too much, and sometimes I feel that it is not worth it. But when I think about the readers and the encouragement and support you have given me, I feel extremely warm and firm in my heart.
Even if there is only one audience, the actor still has to perform the play to the end.
And me, too.