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Memory of the young boy

Mu Yuan was hesitating whether to hold her hand or not. The green light had turned green, and he was rather regretful. He could only follow Jack across the crosswalk. The two of them walked down the street. The day was longer here, and it only turned dark at eight in the evening. Although there was no sunlight, it was gray and the street lights were very bright. There were many people walking along the way. There was a small lake at the foot of the mountain, and the two of them often came over to fish. They were quite familiar with this area.

As they walked side by side, mu Yuan had wanted to hold his hand countless times, but there were always all kinds of accidents. They would either meet someone head-on, or Jack would suddenly say something, making him unable to answer for a moment. His wish to hold his hand had never been realized.

He wondered if he had to get Jack drunk before he could hear a word or two of truth.

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