When the fireworks dissipate, Qingye Xianying sometimes looks at the smoke-filled sky, as if trying to see through the ending of the lingering loneliness.
There seems to have been such a grand fireworks in my memory, like the first tribute in a lifetime. After leaving the starting point, it will never be the same again.
There is still a pair of warm hands in my memory, slender and slender, holding my own hand tightly, as if it can wrap the whole beautiful world.
In her memory, she had seen a pair of blue eyes, which were bright and clear when facing her, as if they could accommodate the projection of all things, but they clearly only contained the appearance of one person.
She clearly didn't want to forget, but after forgetting, she stopped trying to remember. There are some memories that I hope that young man can gently pick up for her.
The world is cold, but I vaguely retain your warmth.