The sycamore grows year after year. It's just... The person I once said to her with a smile: "I like the sycamore tree the most!" Will no longer be here. Never again. If I had chosen to persevere, would everything have been different... Please, please, let's be lovers again in the next life. In this life, you are destined to be nothing more than a cinnabar mole in my heart, imprinted on my heart, never faded away, but also... Never mentioned again.