Youth is just a story of time. Meeting is a lucky thing. As time goes by, if you still remember the past, please remember to miss it. Maybe the love you missed can come back. When we first met, she was a tomboy; when we met again, she became timid and cowardly, and life had worn her out of her edges. Only many years later did he realize that the real initiator was himself. (The various place names, school names, company names, etc. In this article are just borrowed. Any similarities or discrepancies are purely coincidental)