Copywriting.
"Dear classmate Xie Wang, when will I hear you call me little classmate again?"
"The flower language of ginger flowers is to leave memories in summer, and in my memories, there is nothing but your gratitude."
On that summer afternoon when the sky was full of flames, he smiled and stretched out his hand, patted Jiang Xia's head and said, I am Xie Wang.
Her youth died when the ginger flowers fell.
Intention: Relaxed