White Clouds, Black Soil, Golden Autumn

The clouds are white and the sky is blue. When we were children, we were always together. The soil in that land is black, and peppers and mangoes always grow there. You pick a mango, he picks a pepper, and we pick branches under the autumn tree. We would bicker, but we would always make up. I don't know since when, we gradually became busy studying and became alienated from each other. Until now, we have rarely seen each other. Maybe in the future, we will never intersect. I would like to read this book to remember my childhood.