What she was thankful for now was the smell of her own body and the weight that she had never recovered. It made her look like a skeleton without any sense of beauty.
Therefore, she only felt pain on her body, but she had not suffered that kind of injury yet.
The wind coming out of the window brought with it the cold of winter. This year’s winter was very cold, perhaps it was just like this on her body.
She shrunk her body, living like this every day, living like this, living like a walking corpse. Perhaps there was still a glimmer of hope in her heart.
She said that she did not want to talk, but how could she be willing? How could she be willing.
No one did not want to live,
no one did not want to live well.
The door outside was pushed open again. With a creak, Yan Huan hugged his knees and sat there motionlessly.
