The Evening Breeze Recalls Old Books

The author is polishing the work again and again, so it is temporarily unavailable. It’s a bit of a mess right now, haha.

This novel is entirely fictional. The characters, plot, and locations in the story are all artistic creations and have no connection to any real people, organizations, or events. Any resemblance is purely coincidental.

I dedicate this book to everyone who has learned to let go through love. The evening breeze does not miss an old book. It misses the person left behind in the wind after the old book was turned.

“I taught her to recognize every kind of liquor, but she taught me what it means to be drunk and what it means to be sober. When liquor reaches its utmost, it is no longer liquor. In life, there is always something you can’t bear to part with.”

We are always trying to love with broken templates, then blaming our lovers for not fitting them.

Showing your worth is itself a kind of ability. Some people can’t hide it, and some don’t need to. But it should never be done in those dirty, degrading ways, like drinking with clients. Is that what they call selling your art, not your body?!

When I was thirty-two, I met a nineteen-year-old girl. I loved her like a fine wine destined to be smashed. Everyone said I was crazy for loving a girl addicted to lies and betrayal. Later, she disappeared into Beijing’s nightlife, and all I asked her was, “Xiao Qi, are you happy living this way?” Years later, when we met again, I handed her an invitation. The bride’s name was left blank. She calmly pulled out a card. “Sir, please get in line.” Everyone thought this was a redemptive fairy tale about an older man and a young woman. In truth, we were two sick people, each other’s knife and medicine, who finally became each other’s greatest healers.