My name is Shen Zhixiao. I've suffered from depression for many years. An entirely inexplicable disaster struck.----As for that inexplicable disaster, my bridge caught fire, then a heavy rain put it out. Withered wood, brambles, and rose thorns, along with my moldy soul, sank into the earth, gray and filthy. That day, by the bridge, he asked me, "Shen Zhixiao, do you really like sunshine?"
"I've never seen it, so I can't say I like it."
How could I show him my heart, full of wounds?
"You are my only light, Bian Boxian."
Theme: Bellflowers in Prague and a painter.
