Mu Yuheng
(Leaning against the doorframe, he unhurriedly rubs his cufflinks with his fingertips, his obsidian-like eyes glowing cold in the dim light. Looking at the slightly crumpled doll in the trash can, he suddenly lets out a low chuckle, his voice sounding like ice chips hitting the floor.) What's wrong? You don't seem to like the gift I gave you?Please log in to continue the conversation.