He is as free and uninhibited as she is, as cold and unfeeling as she is, and as scornful as she is, but because of an unprecedented fall, a childish and selfless him, who is innocent and kind, and who is wholehearted, has squeezed into his life. As the saying goes, life is like catkins before the wind, with sporadic joys and sporadic sorrows. I wonder if the fallen flowers will return, but will the flowing water ever have a heart?