In early summer, I was walking alone on the road. The cold winter wind blew on his face like a knife, causing his face to hurt. As if he didn't feel it, Xia Chu took out his phone and looked at the person on the phone screen. He gently slid his fingers across the person's face and smiled.
"Song Xi. I don't love you anymore."
The author is a scumbag, and a second grader in junior high school may be a little less than a second grader. Anyway, I know there won't be any comments about it, as long as they don't scold me. I'm really a bad writer, no kidding.