The years will gradually pass by the fingertips, and time will gradually melt away with the years. Looking back, youth is gone. Time is like water in the palm of your hand. No matter whether you hold it tightly or spread it flat, it will always slip from the gaps between your fingertips, leaving you with a hasty mark. The so-called youth is a bloody literature and art. Boys and girls each stick to their positions and form an irregular curve that cannot be solved. "Who hasn't done a few bad things in their youth? If you want something, hurry up! It's too late when you grow up!" She smiled softly and patted his back hard, and he could only smile helplessly. He left, and when he came back, he saw her tearful smile: "I'm finally back..." "Have you been waiting for a long time?" He joked, but he didn't expect to see her serious face: "Two hundred and five centuries!" "Two hundred and fifty... Then I will give you the warmth of the summer of the 25th century at the 25th century point."