They are all immaculate pieces of white paper, meeting and becoming separated in this suffocating city.
They all have their own dreams, no matter the city or the scheming, all for their inner yearning and desire for youth.
They crawled forward on the dark but silvery road. They were not familiar with the world and could only take steps step by step.
They and they are waiting in the wings, rebels in a deserted world and going against the rules of bondage.
She and he had no connection but deep roots of love; she passed him by but they promised each other life and death; she and his eyes met but they were speechless.
She and he fell in love with a pot of warm Biluochun, and she and he depended on each other through an invisible contract.
They use their youth to compose their youthful years and greet the storm with their bright eyes.
Where will they go?
The road of music is full of ups and downs, and the models that were finally built are broken at the first touch, and the charcoal marks on the paper cannot outline the appearance of anyone.
Only youth accompanies them as they travel and ends with them.