"Lin Huai, what if I have a guilty conscience?"
"The night you didn't come as promised, Xu Zhian watched the sea with me for a long time." Jiang Xia handed Lin Huai a cigarette, lit another one, held it in his mouth, and took a puff skillfully.
"I said I like the sea, the night, the alleys that are not favored by the sun all year round, and the continuous rainy days." "What did he say?" Lin Huai squeezed out a few words from his throat with all his strength, and pressed the brim of his hat down.
Jiang Xia smiled, stretched out a hand to hook Lin Huai's neck, and pulled it down. The smoke dispersed as she spoke, blurring her face.
"He said he liked it too"
Concept: In an age where freshness prevails, who can understand love?