The first sight was when the sycamore leaves fell to the ground. Lin Wu had never loved autumn. The desolation and desolation were her deepest impression of autumn. Until the young man stood beside her and picked off a sycamore leaf that had fallen on her body at some point. Lin Wu remembered the story of planting sycamore trees in the alleys of Nanjing for his beloved wife. The young man next to her was dressed in a plain school uniform, but it gave her a fresh air of fresh clothes and angry horses, as if autumn had become warmer. Song Yuxing, I think I failed in this competition of youth, or in other words, I am willing to raise and lower the flag for you...
Concept: A novel about the pain of youth, all sweetness is just a dream, and waking up from the dream is all in vain