Zheng Qingfeng met Zhou Mei for the first time after taking the college entrance examination. She was about thirty years old, wearing a flannel red skirt and standing in front of the window smoking. The light from the street lamp filtered through the window behind her, giving her a thin golden edge.
Later she died and I raised her ashes.
There is no longer a woman who wears a flannel red skirt, leans against the wall, blows smoke rings, and then reaches out to break up.
Purpose: Literature about youthful second-rate youth's pain (not)
