It turns out that loving someone who doesn't love yourself is so hard. In the past two decades, my beautiful time has only been for him, for whom I have laughed, cried for him, and been sad for him alone; in my youthful years, I have played the harp and harp, played the harp in palaces and merchants, and played music to please him. But everything, in his heart, was as light as running water. I tried my best to love, but in his heart, I couldn't compare to a dragonfly. In fact, this silent love, from beginning to end, was all about me alone.
Conception: