#Short story 1st person
Jian Zhuo×Zhu Xun
I was only six years old when I was sold into the mountains. My name was "Li Mianmian".
There was a man who taught me writing in the cornfield and helped me escape.
Later, ten years later, there was a typhoon in Shenzhen.
That guy, he said "Let's go home."
The rain was flowing like tears on the window, and I finally pressed the shutter.
It turns out that some reunions are a slow exposure pushed by fate.
Intention: Study hard and make progress every day
