Xiao Moli saw her remain silent, his heart couldn't help but tighten, he raised his hand and gently touched her cheek.
He spoke again, "An Ziqi?"
This call seemed like a pair of giant hands, directly tearing away the long-standing fog clouding her mind.
In the darkness, she struck at Xiao Moli repeatedly.
The sharp dagger in her hand fiercely stabbed towards Xiao Moli's chest.
The bedroom was filled with scattered fragments.
The crimson bloodstains on the white bandage on his chest pierced her eyes.
All the memories suddenly surged out from behind the shrouding fog, appearing in front of her one scene after another.
No wonder the wound on Xiao Moli's chest couldn't heal these days, it kept getting torn open.
It turned out she was the one who hurt him again and again.
No wonder she always felt something was odd about the room.
It turned out that whenever she damaged something in the room, Xiao Moli would stay up all night to replace it.
