The idea of writing this novel came from a cocktail called Spring Passage. I chose the least enchanting old fashion cup, and the soft and calm breasts just embraced the cocoa wine naturally, without the deliberateness of a waltz or the ostentation of spring flowers. Morning glory, on the edge of the milkshake bath, looks like it is crumbling in the wind. I hope to express its beauty.
Love disappears in time, just like water disappears in water. When spring passes, no one notices. Spring passes away behind a brilliant mask. We've been cheating on spring.
It's a beautiful feeling, I've always wanted to try it.