A cloak-like halo of light shines under the dim white streetlight outside the floor-to-ceiling window, like the opening of a stage play, waiting quietly for the play to begin. Suddenly, figures began to appear in the light, one, two, no, four, five or six. More and more people were shuttled inside. Familiar faces appeared and were submerged, and the scene kept changing. His breathing was getting faster and faster, and the switching of scenes gave him no time to think. Familiar voices were fighting in his head. He couldn't listen anymore. Li Guanghua grabbed his hair, as if to pull out the voices in his memory, but like weeds with roots, they sprouted out one after another. I secretly like you, but you also secretly hide me. When you come back, I have to leave. Thank you for still loving me so much. Do you still remember your first love? Is he okay now? Is she married as a wife?
Intention: Remembering the past does not make us entangled and stagnant, but it makes us slowly emerge better than before.