The sound of cicadas is still there, but Xia Qiu has experienced all kinds of life in her dreams. These dreams seem true and false, and all kinds of life seem to come to light suddenly. The pain still disappears in the memory, is gradually forgotten, and comes back in another way. Fallen leaves are colorful, and Qiu Yilong stands quietly in the warm sunshine of an autumn day. The mottled reflection of memories causes ripples in his eyelashes, recalling the remaining summer and linking up with autumn. Dreams will disappear, and people keep discarding them on the way forward, but never forget them. The faint red line in the hippocampus pulls the dreamer. When layers of mysteries are entangled and covered, how to see simple and pure feelings, how to find the past.
Intention: Life and death are determined by fate, but the line of life is controlled by oneself.