His bright red skirt was soaked through and clung to his body, appearing and disappearing with each step he took. He looked up at the sky, his long eyelashes glistening with moisture, creating a hazy, ethereal beauty.
Perhaps still childish, he sat on a chair by the roadside, swinging his legs back and forth. In the dim light, his thin figure was revealed through his soaked clothes, and his fair chest appeared and disappeared, making him particularly alluring.
People might assume he's a lost minor, still quite childish and in need of care, but there are also those with ulterior motives.
For example, Zhang Han, he was an alcoholic who couldn't make a lot of money, and had no money at all. He had been single for most of his life. When he suddenly saw such a pretty young girl, he couldn't help but turn around. When he turned around again and found that she was really alone, he boldly walked up to her.
"Little girl, why are you all alone?" He stared greedily at Fang Hua.
Fang Hua's androgynous face was already extremely attractive; at first glance, she really looked like a young girl.
Naturally, he received no response, but Zhang Han was not giving up. He moved closer and said, "Why aren't you answering me? I'm a good person."
He appealed to both emotion and reason, asking, "Where do you live? It's raining, do you want me to take you home?"
Still no one responded.
Zhang Han felt a surge of annoyance. "Damn it, that bitch, she thinks she's something special just because she's good-looking."
He suddenly grabbed Fang Hua's clothes, trying to drag him to a corner, but he encountered resistance. Fang Hua was like a statue, motionless. If he didn't move, Zhang Han couldn't drag him either.
"I refuse to believe this nonsense." He suddenly rolled up his sleeves, pulled Fang Hua with both hands, but Fang Hua remained still, gently swinging his legs, looking quite content.
He seemed completely unaffected by Zhang Han's arrival, looking at him as if he were an ant.
"Are you coming or not?" Zhang Han used all his strength, determined to drag him away.
Surprisingly, he finally succeeded this time. Fang Hua was carried on his shoulder, but he remained calm and unmoved.
Zhang Han turned into a corner, glancing around before going in. Good, no one was there.
One minute later...
A heart-wrenching scream suddenly rang out from the quiet corner, but Fang Hua remained unmoved. He lifted his blood-stained red dress and found a riverbank to wash it.
The dress seemed to fade, turning redder with each wash, staining the entire lake red—a shocking, blood-red color.
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