I have never put pen to paper. I always feel that the book of life is not as real as typing words and actually experiencing it. Now, eighteen years have passed, and I'm back, bringing with me the preferences you once had. Whenever words appear, thoughts are spreading.
"Double Knot" was originally named by you. Your serious beginning, like the Red Mansion, is still the same as before. There is that talented young man hidden in the words! I'm sorry for using the name you gave me, because I know you can't write anymore. The trivialities of life have finally wiped out the you that I was back then... I'm also sorry that I don't have your talent or your seriousness. Writing is a talent for you, but for me, it's an obsession that has entered my heart. I don't want to still look like an adult in front of it. Forgive me for stubbornly pretending to be you in this place where no one knows me.
Intention: Each of us has claimed a character and a different life. If you could live your life over again, would the regrets of the past happen again?