Yuanjun Anhao's life has no roots, floating like dust on the road. Scattered and turned by the wind, this body has become very special. There is a faint sound of white snow in the clear night. I want to send my longing for the moon thousands of miles away, the light is still shining by the stream and the rain is falling.
This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.
