Late Autumn of the Twenty-Second Year

Lin Ge vaguely remembered that they had known each other for twenty-two years.

Twenty-two years ago, it took them five hundred and sixty steps to walk home along this road.

Twenty-two years later, on their way home along this road, they got stuck halfway through the demolition zone.

In the late autumn twenty-two years ago, he followed behind the group, his face flushed.

In the late autumn twenty-two years later, he was the first of them all to leave.

This is a slow-burning story that unfolds at an unhurried pace.

It's a little rambling, like a diary of everyday life. Everything is drawn from the author's own life, so I can say with confidence: Look, this isn't a story. It's life.

You'll find the person you used to be, the person you are now, or the person you were in the past in this story.

Let's grow up together, starting at age eleven.