The rain was still falling, and Zhang Xinyou and the girl stood side by side under the eaves, with nothing but white in front of them. They didn't know where they were or where they were going, but they didn't care. They were silent, no one spoke. All I could hear was the sound of rain hitting the floor, tick, tick, tick.
He suddenly held the girl's hand. The girl lowered her head shyly, her little hand still lying quietly in his palm.
Zhang Xinyou's hand tightened, as if he was squeezing a ball of soft cotton. He didn't know how far forever was, but at this moment, he hoped that time would stand still until forever.
Intention: time travel, love.