Jiang Qiyin has not attended a concert for many years. There was a young woman with tears in her eyes on the stage, and she didn't know her name. Just a slightly hoarse voice penetrated the eardrums intermittently: forgetting the past, flowers are blooming in the sky, waiting for the end.
She unconsciously sang along with the melody, as if those memories that had long since gathered dust were suddenly shaken away at this moment, causing her to sneeze that choked her nose and shed a few inexplicable tears. She sighed softly, glanced at the person reflected on the big screen from a distance, picked up her handbag and left her seat silently.