I am willing to turn into a stone bridge and endure the wind for five hundred years, the rain for five hundred years, and the sun for five hundred years, just for you to walk across the bridge... But you are no longer my Liu Che, and I am not the original Gillian. As long as the golden house is still there, can it really hide the beauty? I don't know, and you don't know either. I just know that the road ahead will be far away and very close...