My name is Meng Cong, and I have lived in this world for more than 90 years. Time slipped from my hands like sand in an hourglass, and in the blink of an eye I became an old man who could only sit in a rocking chair in a nursing home and reminisce. My lover and my family are slowly leaving with me. My youth and my memories will become more and more delicate like my thin and transparent white hair. In the end, it was no match for the touch of the Death Scythe and turned into ashes. I looked at the increasingly red Manzhu Shahua and the rolling Naihe water in the distance, and slowly recalled the sad but unforgettable warmth of my youth.