Suddenly one day, Dugu Lin was abandoned by his master to another person. That person is the warm breeze blowing on my face from the south of the Yangtze River in April, the newly falling snow, and the bright shadow of the full moon in the sky. That man became his master. ... Later, he and that person traveled hand in hand through mountains, rivers, lakes and seas, setting foot in the inaccessible depths of Mobei, and also lingered in the south of the Yangtze River where spring streamers curled up. Most of all happiness is as perishable and fragile as colorful clouds and glass. After all, they go further and further on different roads. However, there is another word: different paths lead to the same destination.