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Old Flames Sink into Frost
Short Fiction旧焰沉霜
It's Shi'an, Not Shi'an
A young man's passion led to a half-life of wandering. When I was young, my eyes were full of spring, and my body was full of edge. The high wall trapped him for sixteen years, and the cold house wore away all her innocence. A phone call came in late at night, and the light was far away from the swamp. We meet each other in the long night, and our fate ends in passing each other. A warm start, but a cold rest of life. The old fire is burned out and the body is covered with wind and frost. He is ups and downs at the bottom, but she keeps a bright side. After a phone call on a cold night, two scarred people met briefly. The encounter is too late, the fate is too shallow, even if the heart is moved for a moment, it will be difficult to overcome the vast gulf in the world.
A young man's passion led to a half-life of wandering. When I was young, my eyes were full of spring, and my body was full of edge. The high wall trapped him for sixteen years, and the cold house wore away all her innocence. A phone call came in late at night, and the light was far away from the swamp. We meet each other in the long night, and our fate ends in passing each other. A warm start, but a cold rest of life. The old fire is burned out and the body is covered with wind and frost. He is ups and downs at the bottom, but she keeps a bright side. After a phone call on a cold night, two scarred people met briefly. The encounter is too late, the fate is too shallow, even if the heart is moved for a moment, it will be difficult to overcome the vast gulf in the world.