"Brother, my name is Mingcheng."
"I'm the kid from the orphanage."
In the days that followed a few years later, Mingcheng often looked at the faint wrinkles on his forehead very carefully and carefully out of Minglou's invisible peripheral vision. It was like he liked to watch Minglou fall asleep. When his breathing became even, he would gently rub his left shoulder with his hands. Even if the wound always reminds me, one day, such a dream will be broken, and all the good things will flow into the river of time.