I am twenty years old this year, which is not too young at all. Not as naive as an ignorant child, but not as mature as a twenty-four or five-year-old. On the morning of December 16, I received the news that my father had a cerebral hemorrhage and I went to the hospital to visit him. From then on, my heart began to change. I specially use it in the form of a diary as a preservation and a testimony. If I see it again ten years later, I don't know what it will be like.