The cold nights are getting longer, and there are no more cicadas on the camphor trees.
Snow is falling in the southwest, how can a young man have no regrets in his thoughts?
On the brow, on the heart, the soul hides love and restrains it
The past of youth disappears, leaving traces of intertwined memories
Of course, winter is not all bitter cold
There is someone to accompany you all night long, and it doesn't have to be clear to repair the darkness.
Concept: youth pain; real destiny; native family; growth and healing