In her memory, it seemed that only her mother and him existed. She grew up in an orphanage, and her mother said to her on the day she was about to take it home: "No matter how beautiful the flower is, it must be polished by wind and rain." He was a child from a neighbor's family. They often come to her to play with picture albums, and carefree smiles appear on each other's innocent faces. They had promised to be good friends for life, but he went to study abroad when he was 7 years old. Her life changed forever. Until I met another him. ... Ten years later, they met again. How to choose when faced with ignorant youth? How should she face her abandoned parents when they come to recognize her? How can she bloom the most beautiful flower in her life?