He glanced at his hands, where black blood was still flowing from the wounds he had made with his fingernails, looking rather jarring.
The long, slender, fair fingers contrasted sharply with the black blood.
Zhang Yiming's eyes dimmed slightly, and he lowered his hand again.
With his other, uninjured hand, he took a slightly yellowed bookmark from the inside of his clothes, near his heart.
The bookmark looks like a butterfly.
As Zhang Yiming gently rubbed the bookmark with his fingers, his thoughts drifted back to the past.
The school library is a really great place.
He didn't remember how many sections the library had.
I don't even remember what the librarian looked like.
All I remember is those fair fingers taking the book "Half a Lifetime's Romance" off the shelf and then reading it in a quiet place.
When she was halfway through reading, the girl closed the book and put the white butterfly-shaped bookmark inside.
He saw a hint of moisture in those eyes.
She's such a kind girl; she got so sad just reading a book.
Later, perhaps because it was too heartbreaking, she never opened that book again, but the bookmark ended up in his hands.
Zhang Yiming touched the bookmark, and a smile gradually appeared on his lips.
What a fool! He was just reading a book, and he made himself so sad.
Zhang Yiming was only focused on laughing at Bai Xizhu, seemingly unaware that the worry that appeared on his face when he saw that wisp of mist was also a foolish thing to do.
In those deep eyes, besides the smile, there was also a hint of restraint.
He restrained himself to the extreme.
The black blood was too dirty, but his burning heart was real.
Whether it is in a withered state or in a fresh state now.
Our original aspiration has never changed.
Zhang Yiming slowly put the butterfly-shaped bookmark back into his pocket, suppressing the bloodthirsty urge raging in his mind once again.
I've lost count of how many times this has happened.
He restrained himself once again.
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