The misty and rain-filled Imperial Street, the deserted inn early in the morning, the greasy-tongued waiter, and the confused A-Yuan. Who is she waiting for? Who is coming? Three years have passed and things have changed. Is the person who comes now still the same person as before? Life is like a dream, and her infatuation is in vain. Will she regret it? In a chaotic world, will anyone always stick to themselves? Such persistence, right? Still wrong?
Intention: From beginning to end, you are you, and I am just me.
