Shengge has lost sight of old friends, and it is hard to find the joy that lasted ten miles. The late snow and cold weather have covered the traces of their existence. The cold wind is biting, like a silver needle piercing my memory. Tears are about to fall, my heart is like a knife, and my teeth are rotten. Maybe my life should be like this, but it doesn't matter. I don't live for anyone, including myself. I owe many people, but except for the moonlight, except for me.
Purpose: Live for yourself