Bored to the extreme, he said to Changge with a scoundrel look on his face: "Changge, I like you."
Changge turned his head, expressionless.
Repeat it again, and again. Gradually it felt tasteless.
The so-called love is just a flower that blooms at the wrong time.
When I rationally tried to find this feeling with the person I thought was right, I realized that a long time ago, this feeling had been wiped away by the romance of my youth.
So, Changge, I like you, I can only like you.
Chang Ge quietly listened to me talking to myself without any expression or reaction. Or he will, like these times, slowly fade until it turns into nothingness.
So, I must like you.
Because no one will remember you like me.
What we are in is a mortal world where we must forget each other.
Long song.