He said, I'm just a prostitute, I can't control my life. He thought he saw the flower of love, but he didn't know it was a trap set by a spider. The blank memory of eight years old, the entanglement of six years of nightmares, and the truth surfaced ten years later. Where should he go when he is suffering from love? Flowers are in mourning, love is in mourning, and people are in mourning.