Sitting at the table, looking out the window at the people coming and going: teenagers wandering around enjoying the sunshine in the winter afternoon, couples clinging to each other for warmth, an old man lying on a rocking chair with his eyes squinted, and a little girl delivering food coming in and out. . . It's like a painting surrounded by a halo of light. Everything makes my heart suddenly soften, and my memory is no longer bound. I think of the warm years I once had, my frivolous youth, and the faint sadness and love that will never be erased. Suddenly I wanted to write something to commemorate the time that will never come back. About Mingming, Mingqing, Xiaoli and the eternal Mingjie.