Fang Jinran and Yi Zimo were once childhood sweethearts. They have always been familiar with each other, and have been cared for by habit. Fang Jinran has been chasing the love that is so hot that it can burn her, but she has ignored the ones around her. Twenty years have passed, and she has discovered that warm but not burning love, which seems to be plain and gentle, but has exhausted the passion of her whole life. It is like waking up from a dream, but she regrets it endlessly. . . . . . A youthful love lasts for many years, accompanied by warmth, but without knowing it. . . What I once thought was a brave and courageous thing is now as light as tissue paper. . . . Maybe there is no need to carve it out like that. I am always facing the screen, with thousands of thoughts, but I am at a loss as to where to start talking or writing. The memories that come to my face are mixed with sadness, happiness, and even the timid fragrance of osmanthus. Whether these fragments are beautiful pieces of music or insect bites on those gorgeous robes, they are fragments of my life. Let these crushed petals soak into the dust and bloom. . . . .