The seed that Jiang Lixia had buried in his heart for three years suddenly took root and sprouted one day. He thought it had been lost long ago. He thought that since it had sprouted, he might as well take the opportunity to let it bloom.
It grew like a loony weed, its flowers were as delicate and red as a rose, and its life was as short-lived as a mayfly. He pulled out the flower and found that the roots had long since died. I don't know when a big hole has opened in my heart.