C77 Wood

I bit my lip and picked up the last stack of papers from the box.

The first book, "The Pick up the Grass," was written in simple type that I hadn't seen in years.

I flipped through the pages, and countless familiar words popped out of my sleeping memory. Three or four years at least? I have never touched this box, these selections, and Zhao Cheng will never come back with pen and paper again