About This Novel
"This is my gift to him." Half of the man's face was hidden in the darkness, looking happy and sad. At twelve o'clock in the morning, Tian Xiuji carefully copied the last word, put down the pen in his hand and walked out of the study. His gray-black coat was placed on the sofa in the living room. He walked straight to the entrance, then returned, put on his coat again in front of the floor-length mirror, straightened his messy and thick hair, picked up the umbrella leaning against the corner, turned and walked out of the room. A garbage truck drove slowly on the street. The street where Hideyoshi lives is located in the western suburbs of Tokyo, still half an hour's drive from the city center. He is not the only resident of this house. The landlord of the three-story bungalow is a stubborn little old lady. She is short and has a very thin voice. When she talks, she always feels like someone is strangling her neck.
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