Zhou Yan's world is that of frozen warriors.
His parents went overseas when he was a child. The only warm color in childhood was drowned in the cold water by the mother's sick hands, and sank together with the puppy that could no longer wag its tail. The stuffed bear shredded with scissors became an unbridgeable gap in his heart. He learned to freeze his desires and block out any sparks that might start a prairie fire. Love is a hanging blade, he has long learned to hold his breath in the shadows
Su Mingyao, the focus of the crowd, the butterfly in the social circle. Loved by everyone? It's just a smooth mask. He understands people's hearts as if he were playing with warm porcelain. Like the most patient restorer, with dangerous warmth in his fingertips, he secretly traced and probed the lines of Zhou Yan's old eye scars.
"Stay away from me." Zhou Yan's voice was as tight as a string, and his throat was dry, trying to build the last dam with disgust, "Those tricks of yours disgust me."
The expected retreat did not occur. There was a dangerous smile on Su Mingyao's lips, and his eyes tore apart all disguises, like hooks and locks, piercing into the depths of Zhou Yan's soul:
"Disgusting?" Su Mingyao's fingertips gently brushed the back of Zhou Yan's tight hand and probed into Zhou Yan's heart. His voice was as low as a voodoo but with an almost cruel innocence, "But your heart is beating so fast.
Zhou Yan's world suddenly cracked.
He came for him. Using this seemingly gentle but actually deadly hook, he was dragged inch by inch from the self-destructive ice cave to the burning fire of karma without being able to refuse.
But Zhou Yan suddenly realized that he was even willing to be in danger.
Intention: Because I love you, even if there are thorns, I will hold you tight