In the winter of 1955, there was heavy snowfall in Zhengyangmen Hutong. Eighteen-year-old Jia Qiangguo was pacing against the wind, his eyes not matching those of the gray cotton-padded jacket. In his previous life, he was divorced at the age of thirty-five and stayed in the family restaurant of the royal chef. During the epidemic, I binge-watched the drama for two nights in a row, exhausted to death—and woke up as a seventeen-year-old orphan. Life is hard.
Reader comments
It feels like AI writing to me
Now that you've written about Huiyuan, you've even changed the name, so there's nothing interesting about it anymore.
Rambling about here and there, with no desire to read further.
It feels like AI writing to me
Now that you've written about Huiyuan, you've even changed the name, so there's nothing interesting about it anymore.
Rambling about here and there, with no desire to read further.