That night's dream persisted, never changing color or waking up.

That night, my heart was hanging, and I didn't laugh or cry.

I thought of you that night, without desire or throbbing.

I can't forget the snowy hometown and the innocent and lovely journey in ancient Shanghai.

I can't forget the place where Chen Chen fell at the foot of Qingcheng Mountain, and the woman who has no regrets.

I can't forget the salt gangs in the south of the Yangtze River, the early morning in the autumn wind, and the Huai Xiu leaning on the railing alone.

I can't forget the Mongolian grassland, tossing and turning in the ancient bag under the bright moon.

I can't forget the long palace, the thick seaweed in Yun Xuan and the thoughtfulness without advice.

Who is so affectionate, telling the beauty that has never lost its color over and over again?

It is you, the most touching shadow deeply imprinted on Cheng Cheng, Huai Xiu and Niangzi.

I like you because I always reminisce about the deep and deep past under the Sansheng Stone.

I like you, because standing on the tail of 22 years old, I can't catch the years flowing quietly from my right hand.

I like you, because those stories that persist are always changing and ending in another way.

I like you, because you have added a touch of eternal brilliance to my pale years.

I like you because you are you, the one who has left a deep mark on me.

Rhododendron, blooming peerless face, the wind is gentle and leisurely in my heart.

Your smile is like the tricolor of this cuckoo.

Flaming lips, deep blue indifference, goose yellow eyes.

You said you believed that I was still a good boy, because we were both smart people who knew right from wrong.

I never said that I am not the same as before, and my heart was lost on the road.

In that season, the cuckoo bloomed all over the world, accompanied by your eyebrows and mine.

Whispering autumn wind, rustling leaves, knotted heart.

You were shivering with cold, but you laughed innocently and lied that you were all right.

A row of white teeth reddened your face, just like the elegance of your little smile, with the elegance of your little smile.

You said ... I forgot, but I remember worrying is not worrying.

Those empty titles weigh heavily on you like invisible shackles.

When can I get rid of the shackles and regain my freedom? !

It turns out that the years are so ruthless, mercilessly obliterating your beauty.

The wrinkles in the corner of my eyes have already climbed to the brow, and I suddenly found myself no longer young.

As time goes by, I only care about you, and that love, as always, has been adhered to.

Far starry sky, far glitz, far smoke, far away from you.

How far is it? Far to the end of the world or far to the end of the world?

Postscript: If I hadn't met you, where would I be?

If I hadn't met you, would my thin and swaying youth be more pale and powerless?

If I hadn't met you, would there be no furry outline in my memory?

Thank you, my dear sister Zhi, for your existence at this wonderful moment.

Postscript: finally the tears dried up.

Finally, I removed all the photos.

Time says that signatures and photos will be forgotten.

No one will always remember who, because they have to live.

Once I could only go further and further in my memory, so I came to life slowly.

Can we go back to square one?

Never forget, never forget.

The sunshine in the four seasons is scattered and mottled everywhere.