Shen Linhuai gently stroked the beautiful rose-red dress. Outside the door was the soft singing of a girl, careless but filled with bone-chilling coolness. She was a little lost for a moment. The scissors in the hand flow silently with the ups and downs of the song, passing through the beautiful patterns, wandering freely and happily. The smile gradually deepened, but began to fall, and his eyes began to hurt. "Close your eyes." It was a more ethereal voice than the singing outside the door. Well, close your eyes.