It Turns Out That God Has a Crush on Me

About This Novel

The gentle wind, the gentle dream, the gentle March Buddha moves the earth; Light clouds, light tears, and light cold rain streaked across the sky. Walking into the wind and rain, you will know the warmth and coldness of spring. Whether intentional or not, the fragile heart never escapes. I sigh that people are lonely after sunset, waiting for tomorrow. The annual rings of the years have once again increased its waistline, and the footsteps of youth quietly passed by my ears. I told myself: Youth does not believe in tears.

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