Lingering Garden

Looking through the list of soldiers who died in battle, no, not a single name was Luo Chengyuan.

He didn't believe it.

Three months ago, the remaining members of the Communist Party fled to Taiwan. Mo Nian stood on the pier and watched from a distance. There was no Luo Chengyuan.Maybe it was the moment he blinked that he walked into the cabin; maybe it was too crowded and blocked his sight?

What he promised has not been completed, how can he die.

Another half a month later, he received a letter half a year late.

The envelope was torn, sticky and yellow.

The letter contained uncontrollable excitement and anticipation, and every word expressed affection.The handwriting is a little messy, probably written in the military account.

In front of Mo Nian was the repainted Zhumen of the Lingering Garden, and his eyes were blurred.

Lingering Garden, stay edge.

The author has something to say: Harmful, the messy ancient prose is the prelude to the cruel moonlight (...)