Four years ago, I hugged him who was walking among the crowd and said, "Have you ever liked me, even if this love has long been lost in the fleeting years and lost on your fingertips?" You turned your head, with a faint smile like a blue cloud, and said calmly, "No, this is love." Four years later, I asked Enchuan, "Do I like you just because you look so much like him." Later I asked him that question again, but he smiled indifferently, turned around and left, wearing a white shirt like an immortal.