Song Shiyan broke into Wen Ye's ordinary life like a gust of hot wind, and he would eventually leave with the summer evening breeze.
All emotions and senses disappeared completely that summer.
The hot wind passed through his fingers, as if the person was holding hands with him. The face in his memory had long been blurred, but when that person appeared in the crowd, he would never mistake it.
Love and passion are buried in the depths of memory. When I see that figure, my heartbeat recognizes him before his eyes.
Purpose: Establish correct values