Fifteen years ago, a homeless child of five or six years old was walking in the alleys of Beijing. He has no name and no relatives.
No home.
Just after he successfully grabbed food from the mouth of a wild dog on the roadside, he saw a former noble man who seemed to be homeless and was the same age as him.
His two eyes were fixed on the food in his hand because of hunger. He didn't react much at first. But when he turned to leave, he came back again, hesitantly tore off half of the food and carefully handed it to the noble master.
The noble master did not go to pick him up immediately, but just looked at him.
Fifteen years later, still in the capital. The noble prince has returned to his noble status. And he was in the dark, guarding him silently.
During the Mid-Autumn Festival, he looked at him quietly and whispered in his heart the poem he had made up.
"You are here to stay, but I ask, what beauty can't be retained in the world? The most beautiful thing is the moon in the capital."
At the last moment, he wanted to hold him tight.