Lemon Drops and Too Late

When the registered letter from the Tibetan area fell on the dusty desk, Lin Wei was opening the wedding invitations of his high school classmates. The corners of the kraft paper envelope are frayed, the stamp is stamped with a postmark from five years ago, and the sender column reads "Jiang Yi". The moment she opened it, the corner of the medical certificate scratched her fingertips, and blood dropped on the words "congenital heart disease" - it turned out that there was some farewell, and the ending was written as early as eight years ago on a rainy day.