So it was all…
All just a joke.
Fate played a trick on him, from the very start it was a farce. He was engulfed in inescapable pain, unaware that even the pain itself was deceiving him.
A choking voice reached his ears, "Xiaoxiao..."
Who was calling him?
Who else could call him... who else did he have?
No one would care about him. Luo Xiao had told himself more than once that he had given up his parents for love. Tong Ran wished he were dead and couldn't possibly care about him. Luo Xiao thought he was all alone, but he could always persist.
Persist in loving her, with his own way of loving her. Luo Xiao didn't want to know if it was right or wrong, he only knew he was still in love. If Mo Nanjue could love, then so could he.
Who said that someone with nothing can't love?
But…
His vision blurred with warm liquid, and Luo Xiao collapsed entirely, his trembling hands holding his head, "Ah—"
Even shouting until he was hoarse made no difference, it was all still a joke.
