Youth is like a song, time is like water, we slowly walk through the flower season and the rainy season. How many things in that innocent and hazy era can we never forget in our lives? In that era when we could cry and laugh freely, how many dreams were filled with color?
It's like flying across the clear sky, like crossing the mirror-like water surface. There are no traces in the sky, and the water surface has long returned to tranquility.
However, there is still a heart that is ready to move, wanting to remember and not wanting to lose...
There are also hands that are trembling slightly, and the tip of the pen is immature, but it is the best memory of the past... The most sincere feelings of the past...