This is not the personal experience of anyone I know, and certainly not my own. People say that inspiration comes from life. Maybe for me, life only gives me a beginning, but in the final conclusion, there is no trace of life.
I often think about this or that story at night, or watch this or that story. That Day The Woman Named Calamus broke my heart in three short chapters.
In the last sentence, from beginning to end, he just loved the wrong person.
Perhaps, millions of heartbreaks are condensed in this short sentence.
Shuo Xun's injury has not yet been cured, and now he has a new injury. So the sentimental switch in my heart was fully turned on, and I wrote this paragraph on my mobile phone under the quilt at night.
I always thought that I would never be able to write such words, and I could no longer stand a single line of romance. But it seems that I still have some girlish fantasies in my heart, right?
Conception: