The sound faded.
Ming Ge's pupils slightly contracted, her voice rising uncontrollably by a few degrees, "…You know everything?"
"Why, is it surprising that I know about this matter?" Mo Yi lazily smiled, the smile not reaching his eyes, combined with his handsome and exquisite appearance, giving off a feeling of a cynically playful noble gentleman.
Though the name "Death Island" sounds terrifying and bloody, the scenery on the island is exceptionally beautiful. The delicate and soft white sand at the junction of the blue sea and the island, in the distance, the sea under the dazzling sunlight like a layer of scattered gold, pure white seagulls occasionally call out.
The owner of this island, exuding a lazy aura, sat in the sunlight, as if untouched by a trace of gloom or darkness.
Brightness, warmth, openness.
But Mo Yi clearly knew that these words had nothing to do with him.
