In the first sixteen years of his life, Mr. Palette's world was only precise black, white and gray, until Miss Pigment broke in with all her colors and filled Mr. Palette's rigorous white space with different colors bit by bit.
He gradually came to life as she applied it, and found that Miss Pigment had already become an indispensable base color for him.
Love grew wildly, but before both parties could speak, Miss Pigment stayed nineteen years old forever.
At this point, Mr. Palette, who had no interest in art, began to pick up a paintbrush and paint traces of Miss Pigment on the canvas, day after day, just to pay tribute to his love that was hastily buried before it sprouted.
"Zhou Xubai, if it snows this year, I will tell you a secret."
"Xiang Qing, there's a sequel to that movie, can you watch it with me?"
Concept: The death of the body is not death, but the destruction of the soul is
