The fire filled the sky, and Yan tide could even feel the scorching temperature, but the suffocation made his consciousness gradually blur. Okay, this way he can see his mother and concubine. "Bang!" The sealed door was shattered by a palm.
Suddenly, a pair of small hands gently picked him up. Why were his hands so warm? Yan tide tried hard to open his eyes to see who had braved the fire to see him for the last time, but he saw himself in the haze. No, it was not him. His long hair would never be pulled so casually, his eyes had never been so eager, and more importantly, he did not have such warm hands. Finally he smiled, like a real child: "It turns out... There is still you in this world, I am not a person... Not a person." It is not a person who is severely abandoned, it is not a person who bears a blood feud, it is not a person who feels the pain of the skin, and it is not a person who lives like a monster. So good, so good. . .