About This Novel
It was about half past five, or it was a moment approaching dusk in the summer of 1983. The ridge on the north shore of Dianchi Lake was like an oil painter's palette. The crowds were colorful and covered the beach. The sunlight was like a big fluffy cake freshly baked, exuding a charming fresh color and fragrance. The sea water was surprisingly blue, so blue that it was a little distorted. It was so blue that when I think about it now, I feel like I am in another world. The so-called feeling like a world away is because the Dianchi Lake is no longer blue. There is a layer of yellow-green oil floating on the water surface, which is thick and smelly. The vast water hyacinth is like a grand party. So now the summer at Haigeng Beach has lost the lyricism and romance of the past, and there are no more people swimming and watching the sea. So when I come to the beach, I feel a sense of nostalgia, remembering the happy days when people and the sea merged together, and my mood is not bright.
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