The dim street lights outside the window illuminated the scattered snow on the branches, becoming empty and indifferent in the field of vision.
The sleepless Shengxiao in the distance has begun the day's reminder.
Like the endless fleeting time, it is actually so short.
Yesterday I heard a song called "Your Backpack" by Eason Chan, and suddenly I thought of some people and things in my middle school days, so I wrote this short article.
Conception: