Fall in Love with Ichiro Koizumi

Falling in Love with Ichiro Koizumi: Preface Author/ink grid I, Mo Xiaoxi, am born in the 1970s, and I feel that I was born in an era where there is no embarrassment. They don't have the quality of those born in the 50s, the tenacity of those born in the 60s, the superiority of those born in the 80s, and the pampering of those born in the 90s. The long years have created a girl with a restrained and unique character, who has survived to this day in the cracks of the times. The family members include dad, mom, brother and me. I was born on the edge of "planned family planning" and was born as a member of the super-staff team. For this reason, my mother lost her job. She often said: "You are my debt collector." I'm not ashamed of it. I said, "Mom, ask God, what kind of debt am I going to get from you when I am born? Tell me so that I can get it." Seeing that my mother was about to slap her, I changed my words and said, "Mom, I will give you a good death in the future." I'm a storyteller. People, things, and feelings all enter my heart. I love to check everyone's facial expressions and movements, and pay attention to the seasonal changes of the earth's people. And I often come up with storylines while cooking, letting the vegetables get stuck at the bottom of the pot. In the face of my husband's constant objections, I felt confident. Who hasn't had a period of youthful vigor and romance? I marveled at my language talent, but when it came to formal occasions, I regretted that storytelling was completely inconsistent with the logic of communicative language. But this does not diminish my interest in literature at all. This is a place where people respect their own souls or a place with different styles. I am willing to be shattered in the words. Today I am going to tell my story. My growth, my love, my marriage, my family. I fell hopelessly in love with my husband, whom I called "Ichiro", and from then on, I grew up step by step into a home improvement housewife. I hold my son in one hand and my ideal in the other, and I refuse to give up on either. How painful, how difficult, how amazing it was for me to open my arms, push aside the resistance, and get closer to my dream. It turns out that something as beautiful as a flower is right in front of you, and you can pick it if you stretch out your hand. Now I will tell you the incompatible and fragmented language into a beautiful story. This has been going on since I was a kid. . . . (Author's statement): There are too many prefixes in this book, which is the effort the author spent on sharpening his pen. Readers should not be fooled. In order to save time and effort and remove the red tape, they can skip reading, or go directly to Chapter 22 and start enjoying the content.