Will those memories buried under the winter snow eventually dissolve into the soil and turn into dust? Lu Xiangyun traveled all over Eastern Europe, to all the places he had mentioned to her, was it to find the footprints he had left there, or to breathe the breath he had left, and silently experience the hopeless sinking in a place where no one else could see, but she was finally tired, tired, where to go.
Is this a real story, or is it just countless fragments from my dreams that can't even be connected? How should I describe it in words? In this chaotic world of mortals, many people write their own joys and sorrows, and the story I want to tell is just one of these countless stories.