When she heard this voice for the first time, Huang Yaoming's enchanting voice turned into a thin thread in the summer night. Wrap your heart around again and again. He was still tugging gently at that end.
JAY lay next to her, holding her tears on his face.
And the song "You Will Not Have Good Endings" that is engraved in their hearts has been repeatedly appearing in their moments of weakness, tempting them to collapse.
The concert they watched together.
Their dream life in Hong Kong.
She gave her so many yellow roses. She walked to the church with a seven-star in her arms and called her to pick her up and take her home because she was penniless.
They drove together to the river to enjoy the breeze.
They spent so many nights talking heart-to-heart.
The Burberry Weekendforman perfume she wears.
The morning she left, she pushed her long hair away from her face.
A Christmas literary film they watched together.
When she was drunk, he grabbed her and asked her repeatedly if there was anyone she could stay with until she grew old. She said I couldn't wait.
She came to Beijing all night long wearing makeup and clothes, and spent the whole night crawling in front of her knees.
They were at a porridge shop on Leighton Road, listening to Cantonese songs and watching the wandering orioles in Central at night.
She said, I think the last hand I can hold before leaving is yours. Pingting.
—An illusion of rebirth dedicated to all those who care about it
Intention: