Lin Ge vaguely remembered that they had known each other for twenty-two years.
Twenty-two years ago, they had to walk 560 steps to go home this way.
Twenty-two years later, while returning home via this road, they were stuck halfway through the demolition.
In the late autumn of twenty-two years ago, he followed a group of people with a red face.
Twenty-two years later, in late autumn, he finally left one step ahead of everyone else.
This is a slow-burning story.
It's a bit chatty, like a running account, and it's all based on the author's life, so I can honestly say: Look, this is not a story, it's life.
You will find your past, present, or past self from the story.
Let's grow up together, starting from the age of eleven.