Love in this world is like a pot of thick soup, with ingredients, fire, and a pair of chef's hands that control destiny.
Let those men and women blend together and taste it for those who need love and need to be loved...
I want to start writing a story. This story is very long, full of lingering and regret, about a man, about a lost love, and about myself being lost between winter and spring.
That man has a pair of gentle eyes. When he looks at you, he is very serious and honest, but it is easy for you to be unable to extricate yourself. That day I happened to read a travelogue by a Japanese writer. He wrote that the spring at the foot of the mountain has not yet been discovered by people, retaining the most primitive truth and tranquility. With such beauty, I easily thought of him, that man as clear as spring water.