The muscles of Mu Xiaoqi were all stiff and turned to stone. She was pressed by the nightscape. Her hands inevitably touched his back and touched the uneven and fierce scar on his back.

Her eyes suddenly became complicated and she looked at the man who was pressing on her.

Six years ago, he had pressed on her countless times, as opposed to her breathing.

At that time, there was love, there was hate, when love was earth-shaking, when hatred was eager for him to die.

But when he was seriously injured and dying for her, instead of helping him, he resented him and let himself go so easily.

Actually,...