Later, when Zhou Beibei left my life and returned to the northern town where she was born, or went to other strange places, I vaguely understood that neither she nor I fell in love with each other. It's like a play on the stage. We all regard ourselves as the protagonist and the other person as a supporting role. Each sings his or her own play and continues to act according to his or her own plot, even though there have been blockbusters of colorful flowers, even if the flowers are in full bloom. In the end, there is still no way to escape the fate of ruins.