The magnolia blooms again and again, the catkins fall again and again, how many years have the wind and snow caressed the moon, how many spring and autumn years have passed since the bucket handle turned eastward, and I have lost count of how many heavy grain rains have fallen on the glazed tiles.
From time to time, from time to time, we are always walking in the question of fate.
——I would like to dedicate this book to my beloved people, to our endless souls and beliefs.
Purpose: Dedicated to our endless soul and faith.