She dreamed again, it was still the dilapidated room, and the room was dim. A row of narrow kangs were rolled up with quilts that could only reflect the unique traces of the past generation, peonies, flowers, birds, phoenixes, etc... I don't know why I still came to this room, I don't know why I still come here, oh, by the way, he killed her, the situation and the environment were completely incompatible. Streams of hot and sticky blood dripped down her back. She only felt dizzy, but she was happy. When she waited for death, she could be with him. She didn't hate it at all, just love. His only tears were cold, and they fell to the corners of her eyes and rolled down together with her heat. Maybe the pain can't oppress her thoughts now, she is still focused on her, she is still feeling his body temperature, so close, I don't know how many times it is, he has his unique smell, she is in love with his smell, obsessed with it. She was dizzy, and she was about to close her eyes as she gradually became cold. She saw her eyes that were so reluctant to let go, and saw the sad and painful self-blaming look on his face when he looked at her. She felt so distressed, but she was already on the verge of death and could not move or speak... She cried and watched her die, watched her undying love for him, watched her die in the arms of this man, and saw him gently push her body to the quiet deep sea...