The graffiti walls in the mountain city and the neon lights in the magical city are just physical objects that carry memories. The wind blows across the river, blowing away only their memories, and the only one who has never come out may be me. I can't help but shake my head and sigh with a smile. The night in the mountain city is still going on, everyone is running forward, but I am still looking back frequently, as if I want to desperately grab something, but I still grab something without grabbing anything. My dream when I was young was to hold his hand, stand on that bridge, and tell him that I want to know everything about his life, and I don't want to miss his world. Maybe it's because of the growth of age and the washing of time. Now I just want to look at him from a distance and tell him that everything is fine with me. I hope you are fine with me and live a happy life... This is my fantasy and my memory store. In short, I want to say, I like you.
Concept: Everyone will have their own white moonlight and cinnabar mole