Xu Feng returned home and slumped on the sofa, looking at the osmanthus tree outside the window. He rubbed the sofa with his hands, trying to feel the temperature of the osmanthus that night, but the sofa was cold and the osmanthus had fallen. Everything he thought he could wait for and keep fell apart the moment the man reappeared.
His eyes fell on the cactus on the windowsill. He placed it in the sunniest place at home, and did not dare to water it frequently or not water it. After so many years, it was still alive, but it did not grow much, and it never bloomed. He thought that if he guarded it carefully, it would grow and bloom. Unexpectedly, the thorns would only become harder. He walked over and stretched out his hand, trying to touch it and hold it, but his fingers were pricked with blood.
Concept: What different choices will love have when you are young and when you are mature?