Childhood Sweethearts Can Never Be Matched by a Good Match

About This Novel

The world is thin, people are evil, and flowers tend to fall when the rain comes at dusk. At dawn, the wind has dried, and there are still traces of tears. I want to write down my thoughts, but I can't speak alone. Difficult, difficult, difficult! People are different, today is not yesterday, and the sick soul is always like a rope on a swing. The sound of the horn is cold, the night is dark, I am afraid of being asked, so I swallow my tears and pretend to be happy. Hide, hide, hide.

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