The wind and the moon are flowing, and time is walking at an unchanging pace, walking slowly and slowly, passing through spring, autumn, winter and summer, and passing through cloudy and sunny months. Looking back suddenly, the past days are like a swaying kaleidoscope, inadvertently shaking out inimitable patterns, and the gatherings, separations, joys and sorrows are all out of print. So I know that youth is a one-way bus, which cannot return and has no stop.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
