The End of the World
by Chen Rong
About This Novel
One winter after another came and went like a lantern, and when I realized that this winter was looking for me again with faltering steps, I had just returned from Australia, and the jet lag had not completely reversed. Lying lazily on the sofa in the travel agency office, looking at the withered yellow leaves of the French tung tree outside the window, I remembered the meeting with my second sister that winter many years ago. Those scenes replayed in my mind countless times. My heart suddenly became gloomy. I am not sentimental. I haven't been since I was a child. I was nicknamed "Sister Wood" by my teachers and classmates. Even when I found out that my boyfriend, who I had been dating for many years and was planning to talk about marriage, was having an affair with my bestie, I just cried all night, vented my feelings, and decisively kicked them out of my life, never talking about it again. But I can't calm down except for my second sister. Her melancholy, together with the veins under her skin, can always quickly merge into a river of sadness, flowing to the secret place in my heart.
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