He was like a deity, elegant and pure, untainted by the slightest dust. The silver-white radiance served merely as his foil. He once was the most beautiful existence in her memory; eternal. Why had time turned him into a stranger?
So cold, so heartless.
Could it be, the life and death of others are just mere backdrops in his eyes, utterly insignificant?
"Brother... you're no longer the brother I remember..."
Where had the brother from her memories gone, the one who accompanied her, who cared for her, who was earnest and gentle?
Gong Heng's hands were slender, too pale to seem like a man's skin, with not a single callus, as if he had never held a gun or a knife. There was not a single mark on his body.
It was hard to imagine him looking so beastly when his eyes showed a bloodthirsty gleam.
Gong Heng's hand gently caressed her small face. She wept because the Gong Heng before her was not the brother she remembered, as if someone had stolen all that was beautiful from her.
