Open Your Childhood Diary

Opening the childhood diary, the floodgates of memory were opened, and the passing time gurgled out like water. Withered vines, old trees and dim crows, small bridges and flowing water. On the ancient road, the west wind blows and the horse is thin, the sun sets in the west, and the heartbroken man is at the end of the world. The small tree in front of the door is thriving, swaying its thin arms, calling for the future. Looking at the oil painting at home, it depicts the old scene of the old house, the dilapidated old house, and the river in front of the door. The water of time is flowing quietly. The son said on the river, the dead are like this. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.