
Butterfly Kissed the Cloud
About This Novel
The clouds in Xiamen carry undecoded Morse code, making a salty sound in the notebook. The sunset in Zengcuo'an burns the old shadows into shallow marks, and the heat of instant noodles is wrapped in love and hate, and eventually disperses into the deep sea with the evening breeze. The rain has been falling in the old library for three years. In the silence held up by the umbrella ribs, the butterfly birthmark fluttered in the private messages. The belated reunion shattered the moonlight on the ruins, and it turned out that the anonymous concern had never been disconnected, just waiting for the rain to finally make the wings and flowers recognize each other. Two clusters of thoughts, one is a dry cloud and the other is a fluttering butterfly, both contain the softest aftershocks of youth.
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