I don't know if I'm from this circle. To be precise, I think I am. However, those worldly constraints made me resist again and again. It seems that my cowardice and reserve have protected many people, allowing those I love to live happily to this day, and may still be proud of me. As for myself, I am actually just happy because they are happy. However, sometimes, like this time, the hidden memories in my heart suddenly fill the air and a person's face emerges. The face that was once so familiar to me is always vague in my heart. No matter how hard I try to make her clear, it is always in vain. Only the feeling accompanying this face is always so clear, a heart-wrenching clarity. Finally, I want to write these memories. I don't know why. Not sure if she could or would see it. Quan Zuo is a memorial, just for if I hurt you, for those questions you have asked for a long time but have not been answered, and for us to have a better tomorrow. Because, I hope you will have a good life. The onlookers here regard it as a ridiculous and childish story, whether it is for entertainment after dinner, or for making bricks. Any similarity is purely coincidental.