About This Novel
When I was passing by the vegetable market at the west end of Xingfu Street, Jay Chou's ambiguous "Chrysanthemum Terrace" was flowing out from a hair salon called "Eighth", and for a moment, I was suffocated by it. Then, my eyes became sore, and I opened my eyes wide and looked at the sky. A mysterious sun, behind a large and confusing cloud, seemed like my uncertain tomorrow. For a long time, I have been like a wandering soul with a frowning face, running between different office buildings and job fairs in this city, with the goal of finding a stable and profitable job. After graduating from college, I didn't want to go back to the countryside, and I didn't want to live a miserable life of mud and mud on sunny days and rainy days, with nothing to lose. I like cities, like seeds long for soil.
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