I opened it, and there was a rose on each page.
Under the flower there is a line of words:
On January 2, Eric gave away an unknown little boy. He said he was 72 years old.
Eric gave away an unknown little boy on January 3rd. I am very happy to see him again.
Eric gave away an unknown little boy on January 4th. He missed the appointment today. He must have something important to do.
Eric gave away an unknown little boy on January 5th. Although he didn't come, I happily waited for him all day.
…
Until:
On February 29th, Eric gave away an unknown little boy. He still hasn't come, but I will wait for him. If he comes and doesn't see me, I will cry in disappointment.
My eyes suddenly burned with pain, but I didn't want to cry, so I just whispered: "Bastard Eric, I am not an 'unknown little boy'."
"Oh," Eric smiled nonchalantly, "I don't know what your name is."
"My name is Wing." I said.
"What?" Eric exaggeratedly raised his ear.
"Wing!! You pig head!!" I shouted, but immediately found that I had fallen into his trap again, and he really cooperated and smiled meaningfully.
"Wing, wing..." He said to himself.
Conception: