I am Yu Mengan.
At that time, I was twenty-two years old. The love I thought was grand was shattered by the cold words spoken by the other party. I was completely defeated. That person stood on the other side of the cloud and watched me stupidly push myself into the dust, watching with cold eyes. Then I knew that without love, even pity would be superfluous.
From then on, I wore a string of Buddhist beads on my left wrist. The faint aroma of sandalwood and the unique warmth of the wood made me feel at ease.
I am Lin Xin. I was seventeen years old that year, an age when love should not be spoken easily.
I know, I know, I have always known that our love may not end well. But since when has he been stationed in my heart, deep and motionless, like a big mountain.