A small consignment shop, complicated and confusing. The old things that were once consigned here are still there, but the emotions are still the same as before. Walking through the abandoned spring in the market place, there are only a few words in the wind. Whose youthful smile is the nameless bones in the deserted grave? The years are still the same, and a pair of insightful eyes can see the smoke from the kitchen and the smoke from the gunpowder. Only the relics are left quietly lost in time, just fabricated by future generations.