I once thought that the small town was the whole world, my parents' quarrels were the sounds of the world, and the smell of alcohol and tobacco that invaded my five internal organs was the smell of the world. Only later did I realize that the world is full of tall buildings and the singing of birds and the fragrance of flowers. Fortunately, I have them, and fortunately I didn't give up.
Intention: A little bit of warmth in the brutal growth history of the post-90s generation