Bian Si's feelings for Jiang Huan can no longer be said to be love, but more of a feeling called love. He carried those memories of her through several lifetimes, but he could not forget Jiang Hanwan standing timidly behind a large bunch of roses. There is a yellowed photo tucked in the diary, with a line of writing on the edge: In the fifth year of the Republic of China, Jiang Huanhua photo.
"Brother Bian, I won't come to see you today. My mother is back from Beijing." A clear female voice sounded by the window, and Bian Si followed the sound. It turned out that she was standing in the garden downstairs holding an umbrella, holding a pot of flowers in her hand, looking up at him and saying happily. "Got it." He waved to her, and when she ran, her two braids were hanging in the air, just like Jiang Huanwan.
The little girl is Jiang Huan in this world, and her name here is Fang Nanxiang. Nanxiang Zhisi.
The lily in the girl's arms was originally stolen.
"Brother Bian, I stole the roses and exchanged the lilies. In this life, I only ask Lin Mutang to say that he loves me..." The girl's cheeks were stained with tears, and the corners of her lips were covered with dead skin. Her eyes were hollow, and she was holding a bloody meniscus in her hand. The blood stain on her face was particularly dazzling.
Nothing is more important to Bian Si than Jiang Huan.
In Jiang Hanhan's heart, all she wanted was Lin Mutang's "I love you" sentence.
Intention: Paranoid love makes people sink