"The world you wrote is very warm." An Mo raised his head and looked at An Yi'er, then looked at the paper with only black paint on it, his eyes lit up for a moment, and then he returned to calm. An Yi'er sat on the ground and watched An Mo revising his work again and again, unaware that he had become someone else's scenery. An Yixuan leaned against the door, quietly looking at the big and small people in the room, with the corners of his mouth raised. It turns out that God has never given up on me. If all the suffering before was just to meet you, then I would be happy to do so.