Heavenly Lord With An Unreliable System

Young men have very beautiful hands, ten fingers slender and white, in the warm yellow light is more Yingrun.

Along the hand, you can see the side face of Ning'an Qingjun, and the long eyelashes tremble with the blink of eyes.

He was reading seriously, and even Yu Guang didn't give Ji Yuze a cent.

It's quiet as if it can blend with the air.

But it feels good.

At least for Ji Yuze, the existence of Ning'an will not affect his mood.

Ji Yu Ze's eyebrows relaxed slightly.

Ning An is very different from the people who used to take care of him. After hearing about jiyuze's illness, those people looked even more embarrassed than him.

They always like to ask Ji Yuze over and over again about the causes of his depression, as if this could solve the problem.

They also like to tell Ji Yuze the truth, such as a long life, the future can be expected, he has a lot of relatives and friends, can not easily give up life.

But all of us have heard so much, and we still can't live a good life.

Jiyuze didn't touch at all. He even wanted to laugh. But the corner of the lip just curved slightly, so it couldn't go up.

And they always try to persuade him to put it down.

He said in turn that "there is nothing in the world and no one bothers him";

he said that "the past has passed. Only by forgetting the pain can we embrace happiness";

he said that "forget the past, let others go, let ourselves go".

……

……

That's ridiculous.

None of these people has ever experienced what happened to them. They don't understand the pain and despair that Ji Yuze was once deeply in. They smile, look compassionate, say chicken soup, and gently and skillfully spit out two words -- put it down.

As if it were a great kindness.

Ji Yu Ze suddenly clenched his fist.

He forced to bite the lower lip, dark eyes jump with cold light.

Ji Yuze's body moved.

It was probably because he had been sitting around his knees. Ning'an immediately noticed this movement.

He looked up from the book, but was surprised to find that the thin boy had a folding knife on his right hand.

"Ji Yu Ze." Ning An stood up nervously and walked slowly towards him.

Hearing the sound, Ji Yuze looked up at Ning'an. His eyes were dark and heavy, as if immersed in the deepest ink.

But in the dark, it seemed that there was a little moist light.

Ning An put soft voice, "Ozawa, can I call you like this?"

Ji Yuze did not speak.

"Ozawa," Ning'an continued to ask softly, "where did your knife come from?"

Jiyuze still did not respond.

He just played with the knife with one hand, and the blade of the knife would be rubbed by the arm of the other hand from time to time, which made him rather frightened.

"Well," Ning An tried to keep his mind, frowning and thinking about how to tell the dean of the hospital, and asked in a warm voice, "do you want to use this knife as a toy? It's not a good choice. "

Jiyuze's action is slightly dull.

He raised his eyes and showed his delicate nose and lips.

Folding knife "Shua" to expand, he put the tip of the knife on his arm, to Ning'an said the first sentence: "don't you think, blood out of the sound is very good."

Jiyuze's voice was unexpectedly pleasant, and his tone was slightly deep. Because he didn't speak often, he was a little hoarse.

"Sorry," Ning An Leng for a moment, "I probably can't agree with you."