I once thought that he was the only salvation given to me by God in this cruel game.
He comes from the last century, and his movements are all elegance of the old aristocracy. His white gloves seem to be stained with the fresh air of fir trees and old book pages.
He led me to avoid fatal traps and explained the rules of the game to me, allowing me to see a glimmer of light in this bloody fog.
Until his cold fingertips wrote my name on the list of "victims".
It turned out that his approach was a calculation, his protection was an investment, and I was just a pawn in his attempt to break the family curse.
Rotten dead trees only want to absorb nectar, but never want to live with nectar.
When he left alone, I buried that ridiculous throb along with my innocence in my narrow escapes.
The lonely bird also has pride, but the white jade is unwilling to break its knots.
Later, when this arrogant gentleman was cursed and trapped in a certain death situation, he stretched out his hand to me in embarrassment. I understand, the same kind of people come to the same destination by different paths.
But I just looked at him with a slight smile: "Sir, what are you going to do in exchange for my pride for this cooperation?"
I want to leave my mark in your arrogant eyes so that you can't stay away from me easily again.
Intention: Don't give up loving life, passio