Shen Hebai wrote on the silent paper with the gentlest brushstrokes ever, "In the wild, I really want to tear your bone-chilling coldness into pieces, and let the warm spring of anger and unwillingness flow into your chest. In the wild, you know, I really want to melt Anan's innocence and agility into your bones, so that I will always have a reason to be moved by it."
As he wrote, Shen Hebai's shoulders shook unconsciously, and the desolation and vicissitudes of life were visible to the naked eye. The ink marks in his pen gathered together, chaotic and indifferent, and slowly transformed into the appearance of being in the wild.
In the wild, in the wild, my dearest love is in the wild.
Please forgive me for not being able to grieve with you, indulge with you, and die with you.
Concept: Philosophy, the contradiction between true love and reality