Sophora japonica preface thirteen, the summer wind once filled the alleys.
Populus euphratica hid the thoughts of an entire youth in the fragrance of Sophora japonica, in the bookstore on a rainy day, and between the youth's clear brows and eyes.
He was a sandalwood-scented boy, a dazzling academic, and a light that she approached cautiously.
The corner of the teaching building, half a piece of chalk, apples from the fruit party, a soft call...
She thought youth was long and her heartbeat would return.
When I am free, it rains heavily, and it is difficult to express my thoughts when I write.
Later, the locust flowers bloomed and fell, and the wind stopped completely that summer.
She could no longer wait for Su Huai to smile at her.
——The thirteenth year of Sophora japonica has passed, and there is no more Sophora japonica in the world.
Intention: If some light comes, it will be enough to illuminate the rest of your life.
