There are no mismatched people in this world, only those who don't work hard enough to love each other.
--Zhong Mouli
Text text:
During Zhong Ji's first twenty-two years of life, Zhong Muli was the sister he held in the palm of his hand. When the mystery of the past is slowly peeled away, he faces extremely evil and is surrounded by bullets and bullets, but there is still someone who will say behind him: "It doesn't matter, there is still me waiting for you." There is still someone who lives in the softest place in his heart and becomes the deepest attachment in his life.
Unorthodox text:
One day, Zhong Muli was nestling in Zhong Ji's arms, clasping his fingers: "Brother, do you think we should go to New Zealand to see the stars this year or go to Norway to see the aurora?" Zhong Ji reached out to wrap her little hand, and just as he was about to speak, the little dumpling who was concentrating on playing with building blocks ran over and gnawed his fingers, staring at the two of them with his little brows furrowed. Zhong Muli's scalp was numb at the sight of his son, and he coughed slightly. Just as he was about to sit up straight, he heard his son's voice: "The teacher said that mother's brother is called uncle, and mother calls father brother, so the baby should call father uncle, so father is equal to uncle?" Zhong Muli's eyes twitched, this. . .