The incense was thick on his slender fingertips, and he said lazily: "Mo'er, do you know how much I want to kill you now?"
Not willing to pursue the trajectory of time and space for thousands of years, he said with red eyes: "Mo'er, I'm sorry, can you go back with me?"
…
He almost vomited from the headache. He tried to calmly say: "Xi... Yuxi, you, you will definitely regret it!"
His body seemed to be torn apart, and he squeezed out a beautiful smile: "I owe you my love in this life, I hope you will cherish it and never meet again."
The allure of the ink scenery, the arrogance of the saint.
Is it the bond of the past life, or the realization of the dream in this life.
Over and over again, stumbling, but everything is like a dream. Waking up from the dream and drying up tears, when will all this end?
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