Without waiting for the words to respond, his murmured voice turned into a ruthless decision: "Even if there is another chance, I will fight with him. You will live and die. There can only be one between me and him. You can only choose One."

"It's me who survives, you can only choose me."

"It doesn't matter if you don't choose me. I'll wait. I can afford it."

In the end, his voice was a reckless obsession.

He has endured so many small worlds and endured tens of millions of years. Now this wait is nothing to him.

Waiting is not terrible. What is terrible is that after a long wait, nothing is left.

As long as she's here, he's willing to wait.

The voice of the song rang in his ears: "I'm sorry."

"You are not him, I know."

"Sorry."

The voice of the song is low, like the rustle of the wind blowing through the leaves.

The wind has passed without traces.

Gouzi raised his eyes slightly, his eyes fell on the lush green tree in the courtyard.

He asked, "Have you ever loved me?"

Such a cheesy question.

Most silly men and women in the world will say it.

He brewed countless times, and if she spoke, what should he say.

But then he found out that he had asked something incongruous.

Did she love him?

At this moment, he didn't even dare to listen to her answer.

He used to be so confident that he decided that she was his wife.

After her last self-detonation, the world has a survivable green and water, and his memory has collapsed.

In his heart, she has always been his wife, always has been, and always is.

Memories come together, more love for her, but more uncertainty.

He loves her, he loves him very much, he lives because he loves her.

But is this true in her heart?

Has she ever loved him?

Does she love him, or that person?

Asked the exit, and regretted it.

He was reluctant to listen to her answer.

So immediately he said, "Whether you love me or not, now you are the only one left with me."

In the voice, a bit of domineering, a bit of perseverance, and a bit of grievance.

"In the three thousand small worlds, I have been unconscious." Yan Ge's figure slowly condensed, and the human form slowly appeared in front of him.

Standing side by side with him, looking at her tree shape in the courtyard.

"The love in the world is in the eyes of my careless, like a game."

She paused and said softly, "I'm sorry."

But he keenly grasped the loophole in her words: "You didn't say if you loved me."

He turned his head, staring at her eyebrows, staring foolishly: "You love me too, don't you?"

Ever loved?

In fact, many times, love or not love is not really the key point.

There are so many things beyond love.

For example responsibility, for example insist.

For example, choose.

Yange met his gaze, and his expression was calm. "I am Saburo's wife. I used to be, I am now, and I will always be.

She didn't wait for him to speak, and continued, "You deserve to be better than me."

"I am not worthy of you."

She knelt, respectfully, and nodded at him, "I'm sorry."

Gouzi bowed her head and looked at her with a nod.

She knelt at his feet, wearing a turquoise skirt, jumping all over her body, like a butterfly fluttering away.

It seemed that as soon as he blinked, she would disappear.

He stared at her.

Don't blink.

Throat rolled, mouth opened several times, but speechless.