The voice of struggle became weaker and weaker, with occasional breathing and the sound of things being swept to the ground. She stood in the middle of the room, with no sound in her ears and countless pictures in her mind.

Ye Nianmo embraced Ding Yiyi, Ye Nianmo kissed Ding Yiyi, the two entangled, the two superimposed.

She tugged at the doll in her hand so hard that the left arm of the doll was torn apart and the cotton floss fell all over the floor.

"Ding Yiyi!" A hateful voice poured out of the mouth like a call from hell.

Ding Yiyi was sleepy. She felt someone calling her...