You Lan came to his flower shop on a November night.
In other words, in his impression, it was a cold late autumn in November, and the night was filled with darkness. A ghost who called himself "You Lan" broke into his life.
When I sat at the table and picked up my pen, trying to recall all this, those brightly colored and noisy fragments floated out of my mind, flashed, and gathered into the two lines above, overwhelming them and excluding all unrelated thoughts and emotions. Which year and day is it? I can't remember anymore. After graduating from college in July, I stayed in this prosperous and sweet city and opened a flower shop. I brewed strong and suffocating fragrance and beauty next to the crowds of people coming and going. I took care of these beautiful things that desperately used their branches and leaves to fight for space and could not speak or think. I cut off their attractive limbs in exchange for money. This is the life I have always longed for.
Conception: