They are chess pieces held in other people's hands,
I have no right to love,
Who would have expected that the beginning of a lie would lead to the purest love.
What exactly is the beginning of love?
Is it the pounding heartbeat at the moment we met?
Are they childhood sweethearts rubbing shoulders with each other?
Or is it a lie that is still being told?
Can love wearing a mask also be destined to become a real fruit? When you stand at the end and look back at the past, can you still remember the reason why you fell in love in the first place? Can you say those three words again...
A love story with a □□ background, a small love story in which an innocent person falls into a conspiracy.
A certain Ling's ancient words about time travel are being serialized:
Finished short story:
Finished short story:
Finished short story:
Recommended words:
Recommended disease-free:
Intention: