Last night, I had another dream.
I dreamed of the bells on my wrist jingling.
I dreamed of a loquat tree that was growing extremely well.
I dreamed of someone's gentle smile
Bu Yan didn't even see clearly who that person was or what she looked like. He only remembered that the corner of her mouth was raised.
It made a beautiful arc and then disappeared without leaving a trace.
Concept: Their story is like a silent symphony, replaced by a ruthless substitute after the gorgeous melody. As time goes by, they continue to embark on their own paths in life, quietly carrying their deep regrets.
