Four people, more than a dozen love stories. About youth, about Beijing.
He didn't let her go when he walked out of the playground. He really wished he could carry her all the way like this. He was willing to freeze time at this moment. A year later, when he thought of this on the train from Nanchang back to Xi'an, he smiled knowingly. He saw snowflakes swirling through the car window and drifting onto his face after a year of slight vicissitudes. He gently wiped away the liquid that had melted on his cheeks with his hand. It was hot.
From the title of his new work, we can see a kind of introspection. Sheng Dengyu said that if the novel was not successful, he would stop writing it. God once again fulfilled the sadness of his artistic temperament.
——"Beijing News"