In the winter when I was sixteen, I met an old woman who told fortunes.
She touched my hand and said, "Little girl, your fate is about to come."
I find it funny.
Do people like me, who live in the gutter and can't even afford to save myself, really deserve to be loved?
Later, I really met Yu Nanzhi.
She is like a wildfire that burns into my black and white world, domineering, bright, and indescribable.
We held hands, kissed, and exchanged body heat and vows in a corner where no one knew.
I thought that was salvation.
Until fate shows its fangs.
I just remembered the second half of what my grandma had not finished saying - fate has its depth.
And ours is so shallow that it is just a heavy spring snow, which melts at sunrise and cannot even be held.
"Yu Nanzhi, if I had known that falling in love with you would mean learning to lose."
"Then I would rather never meet you in that spring."
——No one knows that we once loved each other so deeply.
Purpose: Exploring the nature of love and self-reconstruction