"Ali, don't cry."
Yang Yize bent down, gently pinched her chin with his right hand, turned his head and kissed her lips, then hugged her through her waist, his hoarse voice surrounded Yuli's ears.
"They say that my writing about the moon is beautiful, but no one knows that what I write about is not the moon."
She paused, then raised her head and looked at him: "After you came, my world has become sunny. I am no longer a timid little girl who is afraid of the dark."
If you have a choice in your heart, just be firm.
Intention: I wrote down these youthful years, but the ink was too light, and I couldn't describe the promising future, nor the debauchery, so I went to the mountains and seas, soaked in the maple leaves in the mountains, and the salty sea, and wrote down these years that flowed by.
