There is no right or wrong, only winning or losing
Feng Mantian was sitting in the Yunxiao Club, looking at his laptop, wanting to record something, but he couldn't write anything. He was stunned for a while, then closed the laptop, took out a box of Yellow Crane Tower from Barberry's bag, pinched it lightly with two fingers of his left hand, took out a lighter with his right hand, circled the top of the cigarette and lit it, leaning lazily on the sofa, squinting his eyes slightly, and the tobacco was inhaled, as if he breathed in the smell of an old friend's Western poems in his lungs.
I have really lost it, there is no sadness, no pain, there is no wave in my heart at this moment, no pain, no itching, just numbness. . . . . Is this considered a loss? No, the person I longed for was no longer a stranger, and the so-called talented woman was no more beautiful than a mountain. . . . In fact, strength and weakness are nothing more than love. Finally, there is someone who is willing to bow his head for you. Unfortunately, the person who bows his head is not me or you. . . . . As if he had made up his mind, he put out the cigarette in the ashtray with all his strength. There was no time to regret the spring and autumn. Everyone must continue when the road is missing. . . . People always have to pay for their own choices, right?