"You shouldn't have taken that out."
The world of the Apocalypse is treacherous, and people's hearts are hard to fathom.
And Ouyang Qingcheng was proud and aloof, not the type to easily accept help from others.
Especially not from this girl, who, for some inexplicable reason, he felt a sense of kinship with.
He always felt that in the missing parts of his memory, something would flash by.
"Don't worry."
Feng Moxi stubbornly held out her arm, refusing to yield.
Her clear, bright eyes instantly shook him to his core.
In that distant darkness, he seemed to see the same stubborn gaze.
It was so familiar that a sharp, stabbing pain suddenly shot through his head.
Ouyang Qingcheng's hand involuntarily took it, and he immediately turned away.
He didn't even notice when Feng Moxi left.
He only felt that the dark entryway to his memories had loosened slightly, allowing specks of light to shine through.
