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Sometimes the Wind Blows Like a Brocade
The Floating Dust Cannot Be SaidRomance131k WordsOngoing
The years are so long, and there are so many trivial matters; time passes easily, every minute and every second, and the past is forgotten in the torrent of memory in the blink of an eye. Once upon a time, every little thing was insignificant, but now when I look at it carefully, it feels so fresh, interesting, and precious. I'm really afraid that one day I will forget the throbbing, confusion, regret, and heartbreak of my youth. No matter what kind of feeling it is, it seems so pure and natural
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