Young people don't know what it feels like to be sad, so we can shout loudly when we are young and ignorant: love what I love. We spent our entire youth experiencing that blazing love, giving everything we had without expecting anything in return. When one day we suddenly look back and see that those memories have remained in our memory, we are moving forward hard on the road to growing up. When love dies, what is left is not hatred or ruthlessness, but the corpse of love. We are gone, but it remains in our youth. After experiencing so many vicissitudes of life and the coldness of the world, I was surprised to find that I still had the courage to shout loudly: Love what I love! If there is an ultimate purpose in life, then I firmly believe that it is to "hold your hand and grow old together with your son." So, I spent my whole youth to conceive a novel about ideals and love. Finally, at the tail end of youth, I understood our first and best love.