When a person's ghost starts to appear frequently next to your pillow, you realize that every angry word he said during his lifetime turned out to be a hidden love word. That day I stood at Jiang Shuhuai's funeral, and the wind blew white flowers into my eyes. He died on the way to buy me flowers - but we had obviously not spoken a word for half a month. From then on, every night when I dreamed, a pair of cold hands touched my eyebrows and asked softly: "Are you afraid of me now?" I fell into a dilemma: I was living a normal life during the day, but I was entangled in my dreams at night. He said he would stay with me forever, and his tone was more serious than when he was alive: I found that as long as I was awake, I could see his ghost. He was sitting on the window sill, and the draft lifted the corners of his clothes, as if he had never left. Every time we met, he became lighter, as if he would turn into mist at any time and disappear within my reach. "If love can only be confessed at the cost of death, then who is lonelier between living people and ghosts? When he finally disappeared, I held his last remaining breath and asked in a low voice: "Did you let me go, or did I dare to keep you after all? "
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
