He stood on the stage, surrounded by noise and everyone was cheering for him, but he was sweating profusely and could not suppress his trembling.
Because he knew that there was no one alive here.
The man in the mandarin jacket noticed something strange about him and hurriedly ran up to ask after him, "Master, what's wrong with you today? Are you feeling unwell?"
No.
A maggot crawled out of the eye and landed on the collar.
Yang Yu forced a smile, which was uglier than crying. He reached out to touch the collar, and was shocked by the touch on his hand. He looked down.
White ribs.
The platform was the best and largest during the Republic of China.
The workmanship of the clothes is also extremely beautiful and delicate.
The actors sang Farewell My Concubine, but no one was listening to the opera... Everyone looked at him eagerly, as if he was the god here.
Suddenly, the door rang and someone came in. That man had a very cold temperament. Perhaps, Yang Yu would never forget the indifference in that man's eyes when he last looked at him.
The long knife cut his neck coldly without any hesitation.
Just as cold as a human being.
Why?
It was obviously not like this at first.
Everything actually starts from the incident one month ago.
Also known as "Dead Coffin"
Purpose: Work hard to live
