C69 Wait for Me to Come Back

I don't even know how I got back to the bamboo forest. I just let my feet wander and let the wet clothes stick to my body and let the wind blow on me to make me cold.

What was the point of living? He finally left, and I had nothing else to worry about.

Sitting on the bamboo swing, kicking fallen leaves with my toes, I asked myself over and over again, what is living? So hard, so tired