"Do you think my heart doesn't hurt?"
What kind of desperate person would utter such words?
Listening to his words, Chu Jin only felt her heart suddenly sink, heavy, struggling to breathe, her eyes warming up as if something was about to fall.
As he finished speaking, Mo Zhixuan slowly undid the buttons of his white shirt, took off the shirt, and threw it to the ground.
Pointing at the area over his heart, he looked at Chu Jin and spoke slowly, "Once, a fool moved into this place and even wrote her name here by her own hand. She said she would always love me, until death do us part, but now, this fool doesn't remember me. Tell me, isn't that ironic?"
Under the light,
On his chest,
Close to his heart, were the neatly inked characters.
Chu Jin.
Written in a flowing and unrestrained style.
Chu Jin recognized it as her own handwriting.
How close must two people be for one to write their name on the other's body?