"Will paper butterflies embrace the little white boat trembling in the stormy waves?"
A funeral, two encounters.
The love has passed, but the love is not released.
Xu Jingyao will always remember that butterfly that year. She was light and cheerful. When he stretched out his hand, she never hesitated.
It was a sea breeze that blew from the age of five to eighteen. Only when the wind stops, he will realize that in the dark night sky, there is actually only a weak paper moon, and flying in front of him is a fragile, mediocre paper butterfly that will never belong to him.
And he himself is just a small boat.
The business world is ups and downs, and fame and fortune are entangled.
After twenty years of wandering around, Xu Jingyao returned to this windy city at the age of nearly 40, still covered in dust, in response to an invitation to a funeral.
In the sea breeze, he cried and laughed. Lived, maybe died soon.
——Is there still time to love?
He asked Chen Youwu.
Birds flew across the lake.
The shadow fell.
Intention: see yourself clearly and embrace love
