The white bed was neatly made, and the wind blew through the window screen.
The diary on the bedside was opened page by page, and when it stopped on a certain page, Juan Xiu's handwriting trembled imperceptibly, as if revealing endless sadness.
——I have seen you before in that earthly world.
He smiled softly, for the first time in a long time, so gentle and sad. The little swallow fish under the window has disappeared. Only the wooden wind chime "Tingting" is left ringing.
That sound was his lifelong hope.
Even if it's just a little bit, even if it doesn't belong to him, it's enough.