In the world of mortals, time passes by like a white horse. In a trance, outside the window, the moon and stars are sparse. I think the green boy has also grown up. I am full of thoughts, and while they are floating, you and I are holding each other, looking at the traces of the moon in the dew, and the evening clear under the tassels. May my life. Grow with you.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
