"The cold wind in November sent a yellow leaf down, and the veins of the leaf suddenly filled up all the withered yellow. It seemed that there was a kind of "last strength" supporting this already scattered life.
The Stone City in November is full of yellow and red tones. I will accidentally find a few lines of Chinese characters on the earth-colored Mingcheng wall, and touch it with my hand, which is full of desolation.
The wooden bench in November still faced the quiet Qinhuai River. I opened the brown notebook and wanted to write something down...
What exactly is it? Is it Yusu's or mine?
Am I Yusu, or am I?
…"
The light sadness of a small town in the south of the Yangtze River, time flies like water, time flies like water...
This article is a prose novel with a loose and euphemistic style, adhering to the "small town style" and "lyrical style". I hope everyone will not be impatient ~~ Haha...
"Poppy · Tingyu" my BLOG, welcome to communicate