Do you still remember the story of when you were seventeen or eighteen years old?
Maybe I forgot.
But she still remembered.
The youthful campus, the white shirt, the ignorant boy,
The best love, we were not the best us at that time.
One day, we will become what we want to be.
One day, we will no longer be us.
There is time and people in youth that cannot be taken back.
May we see each other again when our branches are flourishing, or maybe we will never see each other again.
Intention: If I come again, I will still meet you.