The heartbeat of my youth is the land of Midsummer Night, which cannot be cut and burned.
When the wind blows, the wild grass connects to the sky.
The withered yellow leaves carry the unfinished heartbeat of youth, and the autumn wind blows with a sour yet sweet scent.
All encounters seem to be accidental, but all partings seem to be deliberately planned.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
