I am Qiao Muyu, one of thousands of Qiao Muyu.
When we were young in high school, we all had a back desk. Maybe he didn't have a house, a car, or a drill, but he was wearing a white shirt under the tree, and the sunshine that day was very good. When you think of him, a cloud of tenderness will pass through your heart. Drawn by the emotions in the blood, never forget, hard to let go?
Until one day, my first love was defeated by true love, and I finally understood that there is no magic in love. It's just that we all remember the purest place in our hearts.
Letting go is not the same as giving up. Forgetting is for better remembrance. The wind blows and every cloud flutters, carrying thoughts of old friends and old things.