Fu Qiran looked coldly at Zhou Qicai, who was already unconscious, and a sneer appeared on the corner of his mouth.

Those who dare to touch him do not weigh how many catties and taels they have.

He has been at peace in the past few months, and any cat or dog dares to threaten him.

Fu Qiran raised his foot, stepped on the back of Zhou Qicai's hand, and crushed it.

Zhou Qicai, who was in a coma, frowned because of the pain.

Fu Qiran kicked his hand and walked outside.

Outside the room, Luo Shi'an was comforting Ruan Jiaojiao.

Ruan Jiaojiao leaned against the wall, lowered her head, and never spoke.

Even when she heard footsteps, she didn't raise her head to look at Fu Qiran.

Fu Qiran frowned slightly, and glanced at Luo Shi'an.

Luo Shi'an hurriedly walked to the room, and directly dragged the unconscious Zhou Qicai out of the back door.

In this abandoned house, only Fu Qiran and Ruan Jiaojiao are left.

Fu Qiran walked towards Ruan Jiaojiao, and when he was half a meter away, he stopped.

"Jiaojiao."

He called her name.

Ruan Jiaojiao's body trembled, and she raised her head to look at Fu Qiran.

The suit on Fu Qiran's body was flat and neat, with no wrinkles at all.

His hair was neatly combed, and there was not even a trace of ash on his face.

Such an elite dress is incompatible with this demolition house that looks like a ruin.

Ruan Jiaojiao's eyelashes trembled, and a smile that seemed to be smiling but not smiling, like crying but not crying, appeared on her face.

"Mr. Fu, good afternoon~"

She didn't know what she was talking about, but her head was a little messy.

Ruan Jiaojiao still held the photo given to her by Zhou Qicai in her hand.

Fu Qiran in the photo is only seventeen years old, and he has already shown his extraordinary side.

Fu Qiran listened to this life and looked at Ruan Jiaojiao with a little distress.

"Jiaojiao, let's go home."

Ruan Jiaojiao didn't move, she rubbed her eyes and handed the photo to Fu Qiran.

"The man said, this is a picture of you at seventeen."

Fu Qiran looked down.

In the photo, he is standing by the window, looking into the distance.

The right hand, which hung down on one side, dripped bright blood and dripped to the ground, smearing a patch.

"Well, when I was seventeen."

Fu Qiran's throat rolled, and he almost didn't want to think about the past.

He was never a cowardly man, unwilling to think about the past, nor out of fear or fear.

It's because his past is not bright.

Back then, in order to survive, in order to become strong, his methods were cruel and ruthless.

But his delicate has lived in a greenhouse since he was a child.

He didn't know if she could accept the darkness.

"Seventeen-year-old Mr. Fu, what is it like?"

Ruan Jiaojiao's voice sounded in Fu Qiran's ears, pulling back his thoughts.

Fu Qiran smiled, "Maybe it's different from someone else's seventeen-year-old." ”

He took the photo and put it in his bag.

"If Jiaojiao wants to know, tell Jiaojiao about it later."

Fu Qiran took Ruan Jiaojiao's hand.

It's cold.

Ruan Jiaojiao raised her head to look at Fu Qiran, her pure black eyes reflecting his side face.

After a few seconds, she burst into a smile.

"Okay."

The afterglow of the setting sun shone on the two of them, reflecting their faces.

In the white tenderness, it seems to reveal a touch of blood.

The shadows of the two are intertwined on the earth, snuggling up to each other and warming each other.

They walked towards the blood-like glow, and behind them were the reflected ruins.

Desolate and lifeless.