In the quaint room, Nian sat up from his bed, muttering to himself. He was about fifteen years old, with a handsome face, but his clear eyes were covered with bandages, as if they were injured.,The door was pushed open, and a young boy of about fourteen ran in, looking rather disheveled with messy hair, obscuring his features.,Looking back now, Lin Ling knew that it wasn't a disappearance. It was because he had no backing, and was secretly killed!。
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