London bartender, too gentle.
In fact, I just wanted to pick up the letter that fell in the rushing river. I never thought that I would lose my footing and drop it, grabbing the letter and floating away into the distance. But, look. The letter paper was soaked in water.
She had never imagined what it would be like to attend someone else's funeral, at least not one she had ever attended.
The first funeral I attended was that of a good-looking, tough-tongued female white-collar worker who didn't care about others.
Xia Li, whose voice sounded soft and soft as if he was eighteen or nineteen years old, had never thought about what death felt like.
At least he never thought about it until he was twenty-three.
Du Anjia had heard voices coming from heaven.
——Little Angela over there.
- Come here and let me see what you look like. You see I almost forgot.