I often feel that November belongs to a boy with his trouser pockets filled with roasted chestnuts, wearing a thin shirt in the chilly wind, and walking aggressively and bravely.

常常觉得这十一月还是属于裤兜里塞了两捧炒栗子的少年，在渐渐抖瑟的风里面穿着单薄的衬衫，并且一鼓作气凶狠地走路。