The best confession of time is never "if we do it again", but "starting now, let's take our time together" - learning to bake with my mother, listening to my father talk about the past, hiding literary dreams in daily necessities, and finding a balance between career and family. The lost and recovered wedding rings were finally put back on each other's fingertips, reflecting the cherry blossoms and sunshine, and engraved the answer to the two's mutual love: love is not about never quarreling, but about being willing to live for each other again after the quarrel.
This is a story about "rebirth is not a counterattack, but a restoration", which hides the regrets and expectations of every ordinary person for marriage, family love and youth - if you could go back to the past, what unspoken "I'm sorry" would you most want to make up for?
