In the summer when the flowers were in full bloom, whose thoughts were taken away by the breeze? What kind of loneliness is left behind? Looking at that thin and decisive figure under the ancient tree, do you think of someone else? Is he the same person from that year? Seeing this, you can't help but laugh. Maybe, it's to laugh at my own stubbornness, or to laugh at that past. You are no longer the same person you were that year, so is he still the same person?