A dream, don't ask whether it is true or false, a past event, don't ask what year and month, a mutual acquaintance, don't ask whether it was a disaster or fate. The white skirt under the shade of the trees, the dripping blood in the fireworks, what exactly is at the end of the dark night. There is always something I can't let go of and forget, and I have to risk my life to protect it. I ran under the sunset that day without any regrets.