Someone once said to Mu Zihan:
In the world of light, everything is black and white;
In the dark corners, everything is unpredictable.
Mu Zihan didn't understand and didn't believe it. Until I met Xi Zhiyang.
To whom does the enchanting Yin color on a rainy night hand out an invitation from the God of Death?
After the washout, who is willing to explore the sin behind it?
Whose will is the dust-covered truth, and whose half-life obsession is it?
Whose past is the bloody scar, and whose moment of intolerance is it?
The glimmer of light in the darkness, whose warmth and whose salvation it was?
One step away, she decisively stopped moving forward.
One step away, she hesitated and gave it up.
Many years later, Mu Zihan remembered a person and a passage:
Those who live in darkness cannot see the light. Otherwise, life would be worse than death. That feeling is stronger than drug addiction. Once you have it, you will never forget it again. Greedy for unrealistic warmth, wanting more, wanting longer. So, again and again, you are as stupid as a moth to a flame, until you die.
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