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When Xi Yunmeng was eighteen, he was in a smelly room, surrounded by noisy voices. Many people in white clothes ran and chatted, and her body was pulled aside by them. She watched her hand being taken away from her father, except for the blood mark on one hand, which was empty. ...

The man was covered in red liquid and there were two things like irons on his chest. His body jumps like a frog … and then, many times …

The harsh voice rang and never stopped.

Everyone in white shook their heads, her eyes were wide open, but the man lay quietly on the white sheet and never opened his eyes again.

Despair is like the juice of a poisonous snake, and the pain spreads rapidly. Unable to restrain the cold, she had to crouch on the ground.

"At half past four, declared dead ..."

"Dad ..." Cried with a hoarse heart. She broke the nurse's hand and lay on his chest, unable to hear other people's voices. As silent as a deep winter night. Only when her father took her to fortune-telling when she was a child, cherry blossoms fell like snow in the yard, and the old man with a long white beard gently and indifferently spit out eight words from her mouth: beauty is unlucky and lonely all her life.

"Dad ... what is this? ...