When she woke up, the shadow of the osmanthus tree was still in front of the window.
But that tree was planted in Suzhou more than a hundred years ago.
She took a book full of future history and returned to an era without her name.
The water of the Seine, the fog of Le Havre, the crystal lanterns of the Palace of Versailles - every place was like what she had read about, and every place was different. She knew that the Axiom would be sold, that the voices of weak countries would be suppressed in the footnotes of treaties, and that every page of comments she wrote might not be read by anyone.
But she wrote it anyway.
Use a red pen, use blank manuals, and use all the nights from the age of fourteen to thirty-four.
"Wandering Son's Song"——
If someone is in trouble, he will not take his place, and his blood will make a wanderer sing.
The sparks in Kyushu are set, let's travel to Taoyuan again.
Intention: None