Late Winter
About This Novel
The only thing I like about winter is the dazzling whiteness, the coldness that penetrates my bones. I can't help but hug myself tightly and let myself feel a little bit of warmth, that's all. We are destined to have entanglements in this city. I once walked on a winter night holding a bouquet of white hyacinths. The road was not dark, and the dazzling white was still there. I left the hyacinths in front of your door, but you never noticed. Maybe the hyacinths had already merged with the snow. Can't be found anymore. 25 Years old, the limit we agreed on, we will be together if you are not married and I am not married. Nothing has ever been smooth sailing. In the end, partings and hurts occurred between us one by one, pulling us further and further apart. Maybe we will just settle down and never see each other again. Or maybe none of us can let go of the other, holding our son's hand and growing old together with him.
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