In a novel, no one can understand love, because it all comes from a hypocrisy, a post-modern art that confuses people's hearts, a game that no one needs to understand. It's just that the vague impression was once beautiful and the hypocrisy confused me. When I think about it later, it must be as beautiful as the most splendid fireworks in the New Year, and then I cry to the point of collapse.
Intention: