Five years ago, such an unpredictable fate and tragedy made her leave him. Five years later, the person he met had the same eyebrows and expression as hers. However, could she be her? Reality and the past were like huge hammers, hitting his head alternately. He couldn't help himself, but he couldn't restrain himself from giving endless tenderness to the people in front of him. When the truth slowly emerges, how much of the past love and hate, past joy and sorrow are left?