Liu Jiarong: "Han Meng, you are the starry sky between my fingers, you can never slip away."
Han Meng: "Why do you say that? I am not so bright and gorgeous. I am not worthy of it. I will leave even if I don't want to leave."
Liu Jiarong: "As long as I don't give up, what you said will not exist."
Han Meng: "You are wrong, Jiarong. It is just like the starry sky between your fingers that you drew on the paper. Yes, as long as you cherish it with your heart and care for it, it will always be there. But I am not the starry sky that you drew on the paper. I am me, maybe a meteorite that has fallen. You see, that star is just that you stubbornly think it is still the same one."