"Except for life and death, it's all trivial.
But unless I die, all living things are big things, big things that make me unable to live. "
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When Bian Yu, an ordinary office worker, was sorting out his mailbox, he discovered that a stranger had sent him emails for ten consecutive years. He became curious. As he read each email in the mailbox one after another, Bian Yu gradually recalled his middle school days, which he had no deep impression of. To him, it was just an ordinary and extraordinary student period... But for the stranger who wrote the letter on the other side of the mailbox, it was a gentle but firm accusation, and perhaps a little bit of sentiment that had been worn away by time, leaving only grains of sand.