Li Zhiyuan ignored Zhao Yi's eyes full of need and withdrew his hand.
He got up, walked aside, sat down again, placed the mountaineering bag in front of him as a desk, and began sketching with pen and paper.
Zhao Yi's hand hovered in the air, a self-deprecating smile appearing on his face.
How could he be so naive as to seek comfort from this young man?
No, from the other's perspective, did the way he just acted seem foolish?
Perhaps he even spared my dignity and restrained himself from showing any disgust.
Lowering his head, hands hanging down, Zhao Yi looked at the ground beneath his feet. His ears resounded with an unsettled heartbeat, while his eyes were filled with confusion and fear.
Lighting the Lamp and Walking on the River, putting life and death out of mind, is not just an empty phrase.
Those who can face life and death are already extraordinary people. Facing it numerous times, you naturally become gradually accustomed and slowly numb.
