What were you like when you were sixteen or seventeen? Although Bai Xiaojie could only remember what she looked like at that time when looking through the photo album, she could not forget the appearance of that boy.
Just like the gentle breeze that blows from time to time in that hot September in that small southern town, it is elusive, but it brings the slightest bit of coolness.
Written to my young self, to commemorate our youth that was gnawed by dogs.