I finished reading the story today. I guess I can put it to my list of favorite books. I don’t know how else I can describe my feeling now.
Then for some reason, I think about my own story. I was sad, and still am. And it’s real. It’s so real, so sad, that I wish it was an illusion. Maybe that’s why I didn’t feel as sad when I read the book, although my heart was sinking no end during the time.
Maybe I can start reading Bu Bu Jing Xin.