Chi Junyan had a dream.
He was crying in his dream.
He seemed to be watching thousands of miles away, faintly wanting to laugh. He never cried, he would rather bleed than fragile and cry.
But he suddenly covered his chest fragilely, and the dull pain from there made him unable to bear. There seemed to be pointing and pointing voices around him, as if there were attacks, verbal abuse, ridicule, ridicule, and countless words to make him. Almost collapsed.
It hurts, I really want to cry.
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