Library

It reminds me of this story that has long since disappeared in my life. When my editor urged me to write a postscript, this story jumped out at me. I think I have no choice but to write it out. Like "My Short Noble Life", it belongs to my life. It is a kind of "not written for anything", but the drumbeat and dance steps of life, an unexpected hint, and a "novel that must be written." "My Short Noble Life" is the same as the story of Xinzi I told above. It is a story about lost love and lost expectations. It requires quiet appreciation and attentive dialogue. In that case, the conclusion of the story will definitely be different. For thousands of years, no matter how the scenes and props are changed, we are always repeating the same theme, because love is in the heart of each of us, and no one can throw it away.

Looking out from the yard, we can see the flow of bicycles on the road running in opposite directions along Binhu Road that runs east and west of Bianjin City. Most of them are people returning home. The climax of get off work seems to have not yet completely passed. Su Aiqing pushed the milky white motorcycle out of the shed, put on her helmet, walked straight across Binhu Road, passed the three forks, and drove onto the Bianjiang Embankment.