He looked at the mirror and smiled helplessly, but the smile was mostly mixed with the vicissitudes of life. He shook his neck gently and tried to wake himself up. Why did he feel so sad at such a young age? Was this a kind of experience? A kind of maturity? But he was really too tired. The price of maturity was so painful that it made people feel painful, but they were unable to save it. It could only be developed at will and leave no room for others to reverse it. The young people were sad and dejected when they were young; the stories of youth were full of sorrow; the dreams of youth were impossible to reach; the traces of youth were like stones that could not be found, but could only be remembered in the heart, but could no longer find the cycle of growth...
After washing up, Zhang So
