Library

The past is fleeting like smoke. From the infant who was crying for food to the teenager who is about to enter the society now, I can't help but feel a lot of emotions blown by the breeze of time. There were dreams that were blown away by the wind, there was a hint of cool warmth, there was surging admiration, and there were also many misguided paths. It is precisely because of them that the spring in life is richer and more vibrant. ?????? Why should I write this book? I just want to keep something of my own. This book records my twelve years of experience. Some parts of this book are magical stories that I want to write now, and I will put them into my twelve years of dreams. May this book honor my past and fuel my dreams for the future. . . . . .