Youth has given us everything. The figure hanging its head under the banyan tree seems to be lingering and disappearing like smoke. The sentimentality we have always left us with a sword in our youth... I hope it will not be erased by the years. We were too willful, stubborn and strong in the beginning, but our edges and corners have been smoothed out in this blooming season. Gently and slowly, we have become accepting one by one, knowing how to let go and how to raise our heads. Just like the figures entangled with each other under the flowers and leaves, holding hands passing by this season, we are the best encounter, even if we are separated, missing, or farewell, that fact cannot be erased. The slender fingers are stretched out, staggered with the flowers and leaves, and a new encounter is about to begin.
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This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
