The first one to twenty-five are sad stories, the later chapters are thrillers, and the last two chapters are sweet stories.
She waited for eleven years.
Wait for him to open the door.
The courtyard door is not locked, the lights are not extinguished, and the flowerpot is still the same one with a knock.
Then she stopped waiting. She left home and went to a tomb from a thousand years ago to find someone to ask if she could still hear.
The obsidian coffin is warm. She put her hand on it and heard a bird chirping.
Not him. Is the direction.
She kept walking. The wind passed through the cliff like calling a name, and the direction she walked was exactly where the sound came from.
Intention: Love goes through thousands of sails, true love must be you after all
