Xu Ziqi stood in the shadow, the cigarette in his hand lit up a wisp of mist. He just stood there without saying a word.
Yang Xiaomian was a little flustered. She lowered her head, not daring to look at the cold face, like a child who had done something wrong, panicking.
For a long time, heavy rain poured down.
"Yang Xiaomian, goodbye." Xu Ziqi's cigarette burned out, and his patience seemed to have disappeared.
Yang Xiaomian still looked at her feet, but subconsciously realized that her hands had pinched Xu Ziqi's sleeves tightly at some point, and her voice was as anxious and anxious as mosquitoes and ants.
"Xu Ziqi, can we not meet again this time?"
Concept: There is no goodbye in love