About This Novel
April in Beijing is full of spring. At that time, Zhang Ziyi was probably just a little girl in a short play performed in front of the school, nothing more. If she works hard enough. A boy pulled out a plastic water pipe from the wall and ran it along the short wall. Then he climbed along the water pipe and came over. There was also a girl crying hoarsely. I was stunned for ten minutes before I realized that this was a fake shot of a roof dripping with rainwater. It's not too exaggerated. The girl continued to cry selflessly and muttered words. I couldn't care less, so I continued to blink at her, a little jealous, very real jealousy.
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