The first time I saw her, it was a nice sunny day. I don't consider myself to be an expressive person, but I felt that the indifference and enthusiasm in her eyes collided with each other, blooming into a different sea of flowers. She glanced at me casually but curiously. Those eyes were so beautiful that I could hardly breathe. That's when I knew it was her, it was her. ——Zhuang Wenqu
Concept: the enthusiasm of old men (?)