I'm afraid that if I don't work hard, I will still be that humble person again.
See you again, hope it's about love.
In the hot summer, the cicada never tires of chirping... The boy under the tree has clear eyes, and there seems to be light in the dark eyes. He stares at the cicada on the tree trunk, with the corners of his mouth raised slightly. The little girl next to him looked at the boy's every move with a smile, her face burned red by the sun, catching every expression and feeling happy in her heart. This state of obsessively guarding lasted for a long, long time. Although the days moved forward slowly, the two became farther and farther apart as they grew up. I thought there would be no more intersections, but there seemed to be some reluctance to end things in a hurry.