The love that was as gorgeous and short-lived as flowers and snow finally turned into sand between the fingers.
At the end of the distant memory, there is a tree of crimson cherry blossoms scattered out of time in the snow. It is eerily beautiful, but also extremely sad.
What he wants is nothing more than the simplest thing. Even if it is just that, the cursed fate still keeps reincarnating.
The two sinful people were wandering in the dark night not knowing whether tomorrow would come.
——Where will we end up?
In this article, Fei Yingxuan has no protagonist, no time travel, no self-created protagonist, no Mary Sue. The literature and art are ambiguous, bloody, and have a shattered worldview. Those with glassy hearts, please think twice before entering =u=
The column is here
Intention: