On the shore of Jietian Lake, my father and I lived in seclusion from the world. The father who is as bright as the bright moon, the father who is wild and willful, their vigorous love spanning twelve years is moving, and the boring life of seclusion becomes rich and colorful because of their existence. I often think that there are thousands of kinds of love in the world, facing each other day and night, doting on each other, and how is this not the deepest love?