The sky is pale at the age of eighteen, and the boy only yearns for the clouds and the distance. The appearance of the human world is the apricot blossoms in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, the corner of the plain white clothes, and the distant awning. Smart and dull, the irretrievable years gradually grow into weeds and idle flowers on the roadside. But there was the bright moon at that time, illuminating the slightly throbbing young man. This feeling can be remembered later, but at that time - it was already at a loss.