Travel Notes of a Cold and Mature Boy

"Girl, one day you will grow up, the kind of person who can stand up to thousands of troops by yourself." In Poyang Caohai, a young man was lying on a high slope with his hands on his pillow, looking at the lights coming on in the distance, holding a lollipop in his mouth, squinting his eyes, and speaking in a distant tone. "You really have to leave." Pei Bingyu's eyes were red. It had been a year, and she could tell by Yang Jiurang's tone whether he had made up his mind or not. The young man remained silent, just got up and walked towards the car. "Yang Jiurang, remember this, you bastard," the girl bit her red lips and suddenly shouted at his back, "You will definitely become the person who tells me stories in the future." The young man kept walking and waved to her with his back. The wind in the sea of ​​grass brings his calm voice. "I'll wait." There are three thousand fireworks in the human world and one hundred thousand lights in the world of mortals, and then what? So what? Wandering in all directions, my heart is full of flesh and blood.