The endless lake is still the same as before, but the years seem to have gone through centuries of vicissitudes. He stood there and said word by word: I really wish we were in the same class. This voice floated into An Ye's heart. No matter how long it took, it was still so warm. If memory can choose to forget, then An Ye chooses to remember the greenest sweetness, even though it later became fragmented. Sometimes the greener it is, the better it is. The veil that has never been lifted, the feeling that has always been hazy, is just like An Ye's feelings.