Liu Qing was lying on the hospital bed, looking at the flying snowflakes outside the window, and unconsciously let go of the Hero pen in her hand. It was another year. She had lived in this place full of alcohol disinfectants and death for two full years. The patient who lived with her at that time , has left this world forever. She doesn't know how many years she has left in her life. Thinking of this, her eyes don't feel red. On the bedside table is a bowl of warm chicken soup that Wang Yuan specially made for her and a notebook with a pink cover. Outside the window, a snowflake fell gently and was no longer visible.