Gu Baijun opened the kraft paper book scattered on the table. It was a thick book. Her handwriting was just like her temperament, regular, delicate and neat. These days, few people take reading notes anymore. He flipped through them casually and was fascinated by them. It's not that the sentences are good or the notes are perfect, it's just the few excerpted sentences and the strokes of writing that were unconsciously changed due to some touches, revealing her little-known emotions.
"A person really enjoys it sometimes. You don't have to lose yourself by accommodating yourself, and you don't have to offend anyone to maintain yourself. One person has his own merits."
—— Yi Shu
In this sentence, she had never left anything behind, it was clean and tidy.
He picked up the pen and held the black pen in his hand. Stroke by stroke, it had a unique flavor and left some words.
"You will have me."