The moment the sun sets in the west and casts melancholy shadows from the eaves, the outline of everything becomes hazy. We cannot tell whether the figure walking towards us from a distance is our sincere beloved dog or a vicious wolf that comes to hunt its prey. During this time, the line between good and evil becomes blurred and melts into the blood-red color of the sunset...
The elite man is dead... The facially paralyzed teacher is the murderer... No, Chenchen... The road is made by oneself, and the ground is a prison... Whose fault... Under the backlight... We...