About This Novel
I would like to dedicate this article to my favorite reasoning game and the fourteen friends who played happily with it. "Happy birthday, Cheng." The trembling pen tip sank into the letter, and the messy strokes scattered into ink in the warm salt water before they could be written. This is the first letter I have written in my life, but it is a letter that cannot be sent. Growing up in the Internet age, we have long forgotten the touch of the pen tip rubbing against the white paper, and only the sound of the fingertips mechanically tapping twenty-six small squares echoes in our ears. What is printed out is the same font, but the signature written by the pen is still full of childishness. The distance between people is so close, and the Internet is within reach no matter where they are; the distance between people is so far, no matter how close they are, who will reveal their true feelings? I have long been accustomed to the fast pace of life and emotionless greetings. Writing letters is a stupid thing for me.
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