Library

Back then, who didn't wander at the crossroads of youth? Later, who has not gone astray in the future? Later on, who hasn't had a complete enlightenment in the twists and turns of life? Because we have gone through it, we understand it better. What is life? Life is the road under our feet, a series of life experiences, and a journey of the soul. On the long journey, we have passed through confusion, disappointment, joy, indifference, and all the prosperous times that have faded away. It has wasted us and precipitated us; it has stripped off the clothes of our youth, and also taken off our youth, ignorance and frivolity. Regardless of the detours we have taken or the pain we have endured, they are all here to save us. In the end, those things that belong to us will still appear on the road we have to walk. So, dear, let's go. If you don't go down some roads, you won't know how beautiful they are.

"That night, I slept on a chair in the lounge. The snow was still falling, and I fell asleep. The snow covered everything silently, and only the pine branches scratched against the outer wall of the house, making a sound. The world buried deep under the falling snow was covered by the cruel white, revealing The ugly fluorescent color woke me up. This was a world that had changed forever, a world in which I found it difficult to look into my mother's eyes." After graduating from Harvard, Alan Golden had a prosperous career at a famous magazine in New York. However, Allen suddenly learned that his mother Kate was terminally ill and had to leave New York and return to the small town of Langhorne, Pennsylvania to take care of the family. Ellen has been estranged from her mother since she was a child. She greatly admires her father, George, a literature professor. This return brought a great shock to her. She regained the close relationship between mother and daughter and truly understood them for the first time. The mother left peacefully, but Allen was prosecuted for murdering her mother: Did she really perform euthanasia on her mother? The ending is like O. Henry's short story, with the violin playing the first sad sound of a love song...