The record of loneliness records every bit of our troubles, big and small, sorrow, happiness, and joy, which fill us every minute. Maybe no one really understands or empathizes with us, but we still choose to go alone, stop and go, we don't know how many times we stopped, and how many times we started. We just keep moving forward, for the sake of our family and our children, from the moment we, as men, carry the house! I will be without myself! There will always be a day when we leave happily and enjoy our own joy alone. Let's have a game, play a game, win a game, win a game. We all bloom, and the flowering period is coming.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
