"It's destined." Qique smiled feebly at Linglin, with a smile like the scorching sun on his pale face. Linglin gently stretched out his hand, his white jade-like hand trembling a little, "Oh... It won't..." Linglin's hand tried to touch Qique's face... His hand passed through Qique's body effortlessly, as if mocking his innocence. What remains is dead silence. "Linglin, Linglin, Linglin..." Qique chewed the name repeatedly, and suddenly fell silent, "Linglin... Who is it?" Qique's voice was a little trembling, "Who am I...?" Qique curled up and held his face in fear. Open your eyes like a child, but their eyes are broken...