On the day of Luo Lingqiu's thirtieth birthday, she looked up at the high-rise buildings and saw that the sky was dark, and she remembered the arrogance she had had when she was young.
"It would be worse if I haven't become a great writer after I'm thirty years old!"
Drunk, she returned to the rented apartment, fell down on the bed, and unfortunately hit the head of the bed. In the severe pain, she felt like she had returned to the moment of the car accident when she was a child. At that time, she was still expected to go to college in the eyes of everyone, and she had not yet experienced the pain of the death of a loved one.
The canteen outside the school gate, a dazzling array of magazines, novels
The bustling parents were waiting for their children to finish school. As a child, Luo Lingqiu walked through the crowd alone and rushed to the hidden corner of the canteen. Taking the twenty yuan he had saved, he weaved a dream that could not be realized after many years in a pile of exquisite and beautiful novels.
I really want to go back to the past, Luo Lingqiu thought in the midst of severe pain and confusion.
The value of my life is to live hard and live brilliantly...
Intention: The value of a person's life cannot be degraded by the length of time