This article was written in the 11th year of youth and frivolity, in fact, the plot was almost written at that time, but it was difficult to write the article for a long time and put it on hold.

People are lazy creatures, and once they stop, they don't want to move forward. If I hadn't picked up this account again, maybe it would never have ushered in the finale.

Although in a way it is unfinished.

But writing a 500-plus-word ending seems to have exhausted all my strength. I don't remember most of the people in the book, most of the plot, but I still remember the love in the book.

Orea's love for Sakya.

He destroyed his own soul to protect Sakya, and a wisp of remnant soul guarded her for thousands of years, and finally dissipated......

Back then, I seemed to stubbornly want to write about Orea's love was too domineering, I didn't know how to fulfill, I didn't know how to forgive, but now I feel very sad.

Speaking of which, this is the first book I published online, I was eighteen years old when I wrote it, and I was with an editor named Bubbles, and I haven't escaped her palm for many years since then.

In April of this year, I ran to the starting point to post a post, and my fast thread quickly received a short signing station, and it was still her who was not surprised, but she had changed careers to do operations.

It's not my editor anymore.

I'm so sorry, ha, I haven't written a finished essay in all the years I've been with you.

It's a sad story.

So, is this actually a postscript about regret?

Late Safe World.