Xia Yiwa looked at the postcard in her hand, and many memories in her heart were gently touching her heartstrings. But she knew that from the moment she chose to leave there, no matter how beautiful those memories were, they could only be buried deep in her heart like the diary she buried under the Phoenix tree that summer.
The cafe downstairs is also called the Memory Cafe, but there is no happiness here anymore, because it sells memories of youth that can make people sad and painful.
Passers-by are still rushing back and forth on the road, but no matter what expressions they have on their faces and how many stories they have on their bodies, there must be a touching youth story in their hearts!