There is a saying in "The Book of Songs": How can we get the weeds? We can carry the words behind the trees.
Heliotrope is the forget-worn grass. It is said that planting it in □□ can make people forget their worries.
This is a story spanning twenty years. I love everyone in this story. They are all carrying their own crosses and working hard to live, trying their best to pursue their own happiness. In the visible and invisible pain, they love hard, or they are restrained, or they are unbridled, or they are arrogant, or they are humble.
Xu Xancao's long-term love, Qin Xue's domineering, Zhou Yu's ardor, Zhou Bei'an's tenderness, and even Xia Changan's love that seems a little insignificant in the story are all their own, burning with their hearts, traces of their lives.
They are all meteors in my starry sky, piercing my dark sky. May these fresh lives also shine through your eyes and occasionally illuminate your unknown dark nights...
Intention: