The book was written four months into it, and the writer himself should be more difficult to part with than anyone else. However, the pain of a single machine is indeed a kind of torture.

Every night of writing, accompanied by the lights of thousands of homes outside the window, I turned on the computer alone under the lonely lamp, and knocked out the stories I thought of on the screen with ten fingers of excitement. At times like this, I always have the hope and joy that someone will share with me. But the truth is, almost no one can see the words written (wry smile). I don't have the talent to write a compelling story. So, I have to give up until now.

For this, it is necessary to apologize to the reader friends who may exist. I feel guilty for wasting your time and money and leaving you with an incomplete story.

In addition, I would like to thank my friends who have supported me until the end, and thank you for being with me all the way.

I am a cloud in the sky, occasionally projected in the heart of your waves. Accidental encounters will eventually disperse with fate, here, to say goodbye to everyone.

Finally, Amway's poem, "Everything" from the North Island, chatted to express the regret in my heart:

Everything is fate

Everything is a cloud of smoke

Everything is the beginning without an ending

Everything is a fleeting pursuit

There is no smile in all joy

There are no tears in all suffering

All language is repetitive

All interactions are first encounters

All love is in the heart

Everything is in a dream

All hope comes with notes

All faith carries a groan

There was a moment of tranquility in all outbursts

All death has a lengthy echo......

Then we had dreams,

About Literature,

About love,

About travel through the world,

Nowadays we drink late at night,

The cups touch together,

It's all the sound of broken dreams.

- "The Polish Visitor"

(I like these sentences very much, and I attach them by the way.) (To be continued.) )

...

(Tianjin)