Seventeen-year-old Song Zili likes Lin Yifeng, who is as wanton, confident and serious as the wind.
Twenty-seven-year-old Song Zili still likes Lin Yifeng who moves straight forward like the wind.
"Hey, Lin Yifeng, you've been eating every day, are you afraid of being stuffed to death?"
"What's there to be afraid of? You're so mean, but you're not so mean as to die! You'll live a good life if you don't."
"What can you do in the future? You can't admit it even after I say a few words." The young man pulled at the fence of the playground, covered in stinky sweat, and stared at the girl eating cookies through the net.
"Zi, I don't need you to worry about it. From now on, I want to save lives and heal the wounded, and be a good doctor who serves the people. If you break a bone one day while playing football, maybe I'll be kind enough to give you a hand!"
The evening breeze was blowing, and Lin Yifeng stretched out her hand to grasp it, but the wind was the wind. If she grasped it tightly, she would lose her vitality and would not be loved by others.
"Okay, remember to save me in the future."
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
