[An'er, look, the fallen flowers in front of you are still so prosperous, but there is no beauty to accompany you; nowadays, people are leaving and the tea is cold, but as long as you are happy and do what you want to do, as long as you are happy, I will be satisfied, even if I am quietly watching you from a far, far away place...] A man is leaning under a flower tree that is blooming brilliantly. Dressed in white, it looks like snow but not snow. The skirt of the clothes is fluttering in the breeze. His face is slightly pale. There is a faint smile at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes are so deep that people will never understand. Little petals fall into his hair, and his white hands hold it tightly. A very ordinary Xiao, although ordinary, is more important than life to him. His eyes have been staring at that Xiao, as if he had been waiting for a thousand years. This action has not changed, it is like a painting but not a painting, which makes people feel a kind of tranquil poignancy in their hearts.