I used to think that the first person to get to know you would have the right to choose, but later I discovered that it was just a huge lie woven by time. It makes you intoxicated and sinks, but it doesn't make any promises to you. It only gives you hope, but in the end it will definitely make you despair.
Life is like this. At a sudden time, it will catch you off guard, and then look at your embarrassment from the sidelines. Happiness is only in the future perfect tense, so facing happiness now is like holding a handful of fine sand tightly. The harder we hold it, the faster it flows.
How many times did Zheng Xiao try to get close to Yan Ruo but found that it was in vain. He is the inscription carved on the bronze tripod, and he is the ink painting embroidered on the ancient cheongsam. He lives in a distant space and time, obviously within reach, but he can never really get close.
How many times did Zheng Xiao try to forget Xu Yihan but found that it was in vain. He was an assassin who probed pills to kill under the cold moonlight, he was an onmyoji who burned rhinoceros horns quietly in the smoke. He lived in the most primitive wasteland of memory, but he often appeared unexpectedly and made her heartache, but he was still unforgettable.
Mo Weiwei, who had always regarded herself as a bystander, suddenly found that she had been involved in this dispute for a long time. She just watched quietly from the side, pretending that she didn't know anything, just quietly and silently.
If life is just an illusion, then you must be my light;
If life is just an illusion, but I want you to be here;
If life is just an illusion, I will wait for you, and I will definitely wait for you through the vicissitudes of life.