"This is a story about love, journey and growth."
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Against the background of red lanterns, Lin Zhun's ocher-red military vest rests on the back of a carved chair, and the surrounding fireworks peel off and roll into the roof of the building dyed with cyan mist.
Ten years. Hefang Street is still as bright and colorful as the winter ten years ago. The winter of ten years ago was red, foggy and gray, the color of youth indulged in the scent of caramel and soaked in the sweet and bitter aroma of cappuccino. Director Cheng was too drunk and had now closed his eyes slightly. His handsome eyebrows, untainted by flashiness, looked like heavenly sculptures in the warm-toned halo of the red lantern.
Lin Zhun raised his lips. I heard a shout in the distance, vague and uncertain, like mist coming from the other side of the West Lake forest. The midnight bell rang, and the brilliant fireworks illuminated his deep eyes, swearing that he would still be prosperous for the rest of the years from now on.
Lin Zhun took Cheng Puyang's arm and lifted him up, and their silhouettes were frozen in the blessings of prosperity and prosperity in Hefang Street every year.
That was the tenth year that he knew Cheng Puyang.
It was the seventh spring and autumn when he confessed to him.
It was the sixth year since they broke up.
It was him who held his arm again, touched his lips with a wisp of hawthorn ball scent that smelled of red caramel, turned his neck to his ear and let out a stream of warm air - this was the first day that this familiar intimate gesture was regained.
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A poor boy with a dream x an overly rational college bully
A sweet and bitter college love story.
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This book is also called "Memoirs of Zijingang".
