Yi Yun's dream of being twenty-two when she was eighteen was a haze that she could not shake off in her life. Who is that white rose-like woman?
"Can I find her?"
"Can my good luck really come to me?"
God bless me, she must appear in my short life!
There may not be a floral fragrance in a dried rose, but after being crushed and powdered and mixed into rouge, her former fragrance will be as charming as ever. Just like in my memory, she will always be a rose in August instead of the frost-stained appearance in December.
Concept: The ignorant love in girlhood. One day, she suddenly realizes that she is different from other girls.