Repeated Practice of Love: a Collection of Micro Novels

2025.11.4 Blurred Winter The bell rang, I packed my schoolbag and walked out of the class door When I looked outside, I found that my eyes were blurry, as if someone had covered them with a layer of transparent but stained cloth. My winter is vague, vague weather, vague temperature, vague disease, just like the world in front of me now When I was thinking this, I found myself walking on the way to her class without knowing it. It was also at this time that I remembered that I didn't clean my glasses today. ——Liu Aici