I Transmigrated to the Time Before My Mother Married

I can't write novels. I've written a few, but none turned out very well. I didn't plan to write anymore, but before the Cold Clothes Festival, I had a strange dream. I dreamed my mother was making me little flaky pastries with butter to eat.

Because of that dream, I want to write a novel for my mother. Not to make money or attract traffic, but to find closure for her and for myself.

My skills are limited. I spent several days planning it out, but still cried several times before I even started writing.