Yin Chu Xuan

I really want to become a madman, a fool. I don't want pain, I would rather be numb. Bitter, so bitter. If Coptis chinensis is pressed against the root of the tongue, it will be painful to wake up and dream. It's hard to see how the cold moon and warm sun can fry people's lives. Dreaming of an absurd and wonderful dream, scenes from elementary school, friends from junior high school, templates repeated again and again. Dreams are really weird. I feel like I have the same dream every few years, and each time the impression is very profound. Until the person related to the dream disappears, and the dream also disappears. I straightened up, desperately trying to recall the past scenes. Grandpa is gone, grandpa is gone, grandma is gone too. One person after another left, taking away my beautiful years. Recalling the memories that shattered like bubbles, I felt empty in my heart. I can't remember my childhood, but I'm only nineteen years old. I forgot, I can't remember clearly. Is this... Numbness? But... This is not what I thought. So I created this novel. There is no golden opening, no magnificent epic, no strong conflict at the beginning, only my guesses about childhood. I would like to write this book to remember my lost time, which was a complicated period of love.