"However, I can only say to you after all - Ayi," Yun Luan looked up at the starry sky, as if he saw the tiny but extremely bright daisies in the patio when he was a child, as well as Yun Bo's broken deck chair, and the high threshold. The velvet flowers on the Albizia tree whisper in the wind, and the purple clothes that turned away that day. In the faint fragrance of Longjing before the rain like an old dream, Yun Luan silently muttered to the long-gone soul, "I'm sorry, I... Don't love you."
Intention: