Forcibly pieced together as "brothers" by their broken families, Jiang Yihuan and Xu Jing tacitly put on masks - one pretending to be a surly wolf cub, the other pretending to be a docile lamb. But under the soaked white shirt on a rainy night, in the wandering eyes behind the lenses, those cross-border temptations and the moments of disordered heartbeats all fermented into a fatal attraction within the rusted iron door.
"Three chapters of agreement? Okay." Xu Jing pushed up his slippery silver-rimmed glasses and brushed his fingertips against the old scar on Jiang Yifan's palm, "But I will set the rules."
Intention: Qianqiu don't regret not being able to write this and adjust it