Wu Zhao lit a cigarette, his thoughts wandering, and he couldn't help but think of a person. That person, I don't know where he is now, I don't know why he left, and I don't know why he hasn't come back yet. Whether he has forgotten this place and these people, whether he never cared about them at all, Wu Zhao doesn't know, and he may never even have the chance to know.
Intention: Meeting by chance