I Wrote Hundreds of Millions of Letters to the Past

I still like you very much, just like the wind that has traveled eight thousand miles without asking about the date of return. I still like you very much, just like the cycle of the sun and the moon, regardless of day and night. I still like you very much, like a cloud drifting ninety thousand miles without ever resting. I still like you very much, just like stars hitting the earth until death. I still like you very much, like sunshine filling the world, gentle and comfortable. I still like you very much, like the wind blowing in my heart. I still like you very much, like rain falling on the tropics and polar regions, thousands of miles away. I still like you very much, like a whale sinking at the bottom of the sea breathing softly, full of infatuation and full of anger. I still like you very much, like the old city gate that I have been waiting for for many years. I still like you very much, like a whale suffering from lack of oxygen in the deep sea of ​​6,400 meters, never getting tired of it. I still like you very much, just like the subjects waiting for the restoration of the dynasty, which is far away. I still like you very much, the willows are moving, the cicadas are chirping, the sunset is tidal, I can't help myself. I still like you very much, like a cloud drifting ninety thousand miles without ever resting. I still like you very much, like the sun rises and sets, no matter day or night. I still like you very much, just like the stars running through the dark night for hundreds of millions of years without complaining. I still like you very much, like spring rain falling for eight hundred miles, pattering. I still like you very much, like spring grass dyeing the green ridge, there is no doubt. I still like you very much, you are like a shrew, scolding and unreasonable. I still like you very much, just like the rain falling on the green leaves all night long, without hesitation. I still like you very much, just like the falling rain during the plum rain season, it lasts forever. I still like you very much, just like the smoke curling up from the kitchen, the pear frying in the snow and the rain falling. I still like you very much, like a bird falling in love with a fish in the sea. It's hard to decide whether to stay or go. I don't know why. I still like you very much, like a noisy secret that can be said in a thousand words. I still like you very much, just like the begonia in the courtyard that falls and blooms again and again. I still like you very much, just like the sun and the moon take turns, regardless of day and night. I still like you very much, like layers of clouds condensed into phrases, bit by bit. I still like you very much, like the twinkling stars in the night sky, the neon blur. I still like you very much, like the osmanthus leaves falling in the wind and turning into mud. I still like you very much, like raindrops falling on green moss and red mud, soft and dispersed. I still like you very much, like the starlight falling into my eyes, I can see you thousands of miles away. I still like you very much, just like Mr. Chaitou Feng's last touch, I fall in love with you. I still like you very much, just like the red tent on a spring night, when I am still dreaming, I still feel afraid to think of you. I still like you very much, just like the bumps and bumps that catch the torrential rain, and how much it falls into the channel.

Li Xin'er thought of Lin Qi too simply. He didn't spend much money at ordinary times and still had some savings. He didn't need such charity. Who would like this?

Science fiction❌ Parenting Guide ✔ Wa'er's mother wrote too deliberately, as if she had deep hatred.

Not bad, very good-looking, come on, author.

Curious! 🤔Why repeated deductions!

The subject matter is good and quite attractive.

No one has read this book you wrote. I searched on Baidu and couldn't find it at all.

Lin Qi's life is quite simple. There is no other place except the work and home, but it is also very boring. He can make more friends and go out to play.

The heroine is extremely poisonous, the protagonist's way of dealing with it is incomprehensible, and the writing is very fragmented. The life before the letter came seems to be a blank. After the heroine appeared in the first letter, it centered around the heroine's affairs. Doesn't the protagonist have a life of his own? Have you never seen a woman before the female celebrity appeared? Do you usually have no social circle? Have you never talked to someone again? Don't you have any girls you like? The heroine is written like a queen mother, which not only attracts the attention of the whole audience, but also makes her annoying.

The protagonist should be allowed to learn classical music, such as erhu, suona and some other Chinese classical instruments.