Seventeen years old, full of passion. No matter now or in the future, I will still remember what I saw, what I heard, and the people I came into contact with at this age. Everything is like a stream of heat flowing into the ice, unforgettable.
Young people are like the most splendid warm sun in winter, like the wind blowing through the trees in autumn, tired of vitality.
Concept: "The young man's passion paints half the sky, and the flowers bloom under the scorching sun."