Love is Powerless
by Li Junhu
About This Novel
The city sky also looks high in autumn. In the afternoon, Yin Nanping drove out of the provincial government gate and ran all the way. The lights at several intersections were green, but I was stopped by a red light at the intersection of the stadium. He lowered the left window glass, turned on the radio, rested his elbow on the steering wheel on the window, and looked at the people hurriedly crossing the zebra crossing in the autumn light. The facial expressions of Chinese people have always been the same piece of lead, but in recent years this lead has been engraved with the word "busy". This word seems to be a sword of admiration. Everyone carries one and runs through the red light arrogantly. Due to the proliferation of private cars, the radio station that disappeared in the past few years has come back to life. At this moment, a young singer is speaking in a pretentious Hong Kong and Taiwan accent, pretending to be intoxicated with himself: "Who is in love with me -? And who am I in love with -?"
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