The rain in Jiangcheng has always hidden secrets that cannot be told.
I recognized his fingerprints in the morgue, but walked side by side with him in the old alleys late at night.
He is a missing person pursued by the police, a vague suspect in the files, and my first love engraved in my bones and blood.
The truth is like a layer of tissue paper soaked in water. If you pry it open, you will never recover; if you don't pry it open, you will regret it for life.
We fell in love in the fog, said goodbye in front of the truth, and finally even a goodbye was dissipated in the fog that lingers in Jiangcheng all year round.
Some reunions are for a better farewell; some love is destined to have no return from the beginning.
