Late spring in March.
This world is slightly different.
Time brings everything that is blocked into March, a month of short-lived happiness.
The girl smiled slightly, sitting on the stone chair, and a beam of white light passed through her eyes.
This scene was forgotten.
Forgotten in March's heavy picture album.
One day, the page of painting floated out gently.
The light passed through the girl's eyes and reflected in her heart.
She knew that March was here.