In the past, in the old city block, grape vines covered the shelves, blocking the dazzling sunlight. Song Jiazhuo lay on the hammock under the vagina and took a nap. Flying insects were dangling in front of her, disturbing her dreams. She reached out to catch them, and accidentally turned them over from the hammock. He came down and said, "Ouch..." He touched his sore butt. When he got up, he found that he was snickering. He was holding a plain white porcelain plate with sweet-scented osmanthus cake in the middle. He had just moved in not long ago. He made cakes at home, so he brought some to visit his neighbors. That was their first encounter. On a midsummer afternoon, the boy was clean and tall, while the girl still had baby fat on her face. Her eyes were like grapes on a grape trellis, black and translucent...
Years later, Song Jiazhuo is still the same broken child, living lifelessly, but Liang Yingzhi has become the vine above her head, blocking out the dazzling light...