This is just a very simple story.
Two sects, fifty years of kindness and fifty years of resentment.
In despair, I stretch out my hands, not for survival, but just to touch your face.
Four people, four relationships, memories hidden under the wind and sand of the desert, tenderness floating around the watery countryside in the south of the Yangtze River... In an instant, there was no direction.
Will you look back the day you leave?
PS: The article is updated very slowly. It took nearly two years to write the previous thirty-four chapters. This time, they were all moved to Jinjiang, with a total of 200,000 words.
Conception: