The leafy trees swayed with the wind. Standing at the end of the road, the porcelain white ground was illuminated by the scorching sun, with a bit of scorching heat. The wind blew the broken hair on his forehead. The fifteen-year-old boy leaned against the sycamore tree, standing there without speaking, with proud eyes and a smile on his lips, which went against the light of the world.
Concept: Secret love is a person's chaos