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.,He was an orphan in his past life. The first half of his life could only be described as ordinary, so ordinary that Lin Ling felt numb. As for the reason for his death, he died saving a child when he was hit by a truck.,The door was pushed open, and a young boy of about fourteen ran in, looking rather disheveled with messy hair, obscuring his features.。