A short story about looking at this colorful world with ghost eyes.
Everyone has their own ghosts, who can tell clearly who is good and who is bad?
The girl buried at the crossroads looks at different people and listens to different stories every day, and she will never be reincarnated.
The author has something to say: The story is a bit old-fashioned and has nothing new. I just got tired of the perfect heroine and wanted to write about some imperfect girls. She can see the awkwardness in those perfect lives. The three views are not necessarily correct. She is selfish and pyrotechnics, and even sometimes extreme. In short, it is fun to watch.
Intention: Who knows who is good and who is bad?