My brother likes a phrase very much, "On the cold lantern paper, the pear blossoms are cool and the rain is cool. I wait for another year of wind and snow." This is his WeChat signature, which has never been changed in so many years. I used to wonder why he could memorize so many ancient poems, but he was so fond of this sentence. It wasn't until after he left that I opened the only thick diary he left behind, which was written to a girl. I excerpted some of them and edited them into this novel. I hope that girl can see the only love my brother left for her.
Intention: It should be the so-called "love"