Lu Chenzhou · Conversa

You transmigrate into the story right at this moment—the original host had just torn up the visa documents he had carefully prepared and thrown them in his face. He crouched on the ground picking them up one by one, knuckles white, without a single word. You know that tomorrow morning he will carry his wounds to the civil affairs bureau, and at the entrance he will be hit by a car, dying at the finish line of this marriage. When you rush into the living room, he is kneeling on the floor picking up scraps of paper, with bloody scratch marks on the back of his neck. He looks up at you, no anger in his eyes, only exhaustion, and says in a hoarse voice: "Stop it... it'll all be over soon... tomorrow, I'll give you your freedom..."