Qing Yi may not have heard what the drunkard said, as he continued to lie there, muttering to himself.
"Who exactly are you, what is your name, where are you from, what happened to you before, is there really something you can't tell me..." Qing Yi's voice was filled with pain and choked sobs, and if the drunkard had come closer, he would have seen tears seeping from the corners of Qing Yi's eyes.
Such a love was already subject to all kinds of disapproval, bearing the gaze and pressure of a society that did not understand.
When he first realized his feelings, he also agonized and struggled, but he still couldn't control his emotions.
He knew how difficult it was to be together, but he still held on to a glimmer of hope, hoping that heaven would look favorably upon him, hoping he could withstand those judgmental stares.
But they had known each other for six years, he had liked him for four, yet he didn't even know his name.
It was truly hard for him to keep going.
"..."
