The letter paper of the 17-year-old has turned yellow, the vows of the 20-year-old are still lingering in the ears, but the promises of the 24-year-old are drifting like the wind... Song Duyue, you have to cross thousands of mountains and rivers and move forward without looking back. Maybe on a summer night filled with the chirping of cicadas, we will meet again
Intention: love yourself