Falling flowers are intentional and flowing water is sentimental. What kind of story would that be?
When the tea cooled down and I looked at myself, I couldn't help but laugh out loud, and the lingering feeling turned into a trace of tiredness, lingering away.
In my dream, I heard the sound of nature again, surrounding a quiet corner of the city and letting the hustle and bustle go away.
When I woke up in the cold, my memory was shattered into a piece of paper and a few words——