Love can last. In the cracks of time, the years keep moving forward, and we keep chasing. The sun shines on the quilt through the window, so every sunny day in the rainy season is particularly rare. In this world, a centenarian lover can only accompany him halfway. Today and last night, the memory is different from the present. In the memory of youth, in addition to the scenery, there are people who have gone away. So separation is the normal state of life, and loneliness has become a single-plank bridge of growth. The days of doing things seriously always pass faster than usual. Those pens slip away like rabbits' tails, and there is no white in the blink of an eye.