In the last semester of her junior year, Yan Shuang's fourth novel began to be serialized.
The red walls and white tiles of a small southwest town, a street with the same name as the middle school, a cat sleeping in the corner of the library, and a boy who is silently loved.
That is Yan Shuang's story, a story she started writing when she was fifteen years old. The little girl in the book was given high hopes by Yan Shuang. He handed over the physics book on her behalf, wrote the blackboard newspaper, signed the school newspaper, and said to the boy on her behalf: I am Yan Shuang from Class 2, and I am also Lin Shuang from Baicha Street.
The ending of the book has not yet been arranged, and Yan Shuang's secret love that she had hidden for three years was revealed to the public.
That day, her phone was filled with messages. Finally, at night, she picked up her phone in confusion and saw the latest message, a friend request.
I am He Yang.
There was a gaping hole in the night, and the faint light stung the eyes. The little person hiding under the eyes was caught in the rain, and the dew found after a long drought was sweet.