She, the ugly duckling hiding in the corner, never hoped to turn into a swan, and God never let her go;
Can he, the gentle prince, the prince born for Cinderella, find his princess;
He, the quiet knight, as elegant as a cat, can he win the favor of the princess?
When the threads of fate overlapped, it was discovered that whose palm had grown tangled curves. Who else has met the crape myrtle star?
Maybe, none of them can figure it out or keep it, and it will be like a fleeting year.
Missed the season, missed the love.