Yao Yiyi, a lonely, incomplete life form. In the process of her growth, those flowers and passers-by appeared one by one and left one by one. She was lonely. Like fireworks, even if the whole world cheered for her, she would always only have the distant sound of the cello in her heart...
How difficult it is to choose a person, identify with his attitude towards life, identify with his artistic ideals, identify with his illness and aging, until you witness his death with your own eyes. This is her love creed.
Piano, cello, symphony, white cotton skirt, white canvas shoes, a calm and cold expression, and paintings, her paintings...
Many years later, in that pure white country in Northern Europe, Chen Yu, Hao Zimu, Lin Bai, Xiao Bian, Rao Yi, Xu Ze, Song Yang... Those people