Zhang Yang's youth was completely lost in such waiting, searching, and tracing...
Who once said that if she could not forget, but only remember and feel warmth, then she would rather live for only one season in her life, and take away a year with a smile...
Life surges like a tide, alternating between black and white many times, and finally becomes a short and long season of three hundred and sixty-five days...
In the blink of an eye, three years...