Twilight Concerto

So the real reason the Salty Basket is writing in the men's fiction genre is to tell a pure-love story!? Talk about turning everything upside down. Why would a womanizer like me want to write a pure-love story!!! "Oh, Auntie." "You're weeding that weird uncle's 'grave' again." Seven- or eight-year-old Xiong Xin blinked her big eyes and gazed curiously at the woman working in front of a gravestone, asking innocently. Her voice was clear and childish, like a gentle breeze brushing past the woman's ear. The woman stopped what she was doing and looked up, a tender smile appearing on her face. Her gaze grew distant. Through Xiong Xin, she seemed to glimpse some far-off time long ago. "Hehe, this isn't a grave, Xiaoxin." She spoke softly, a faint sadness in her voice. "Look, there's no mound of earth here. This is a memorial monument."