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She painted a picture and said that her childhood sweetheart was gone. He took a candy in his mouth and sighed that all the smoke in the past had disappeared. A continuous rain has been falling until now, soaking the city in memories and knocking the news office into recession. It is lingering and tactful, as if meeting an old friend and telling the story of these years in the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. That painting, that piece of candy, and that past incident were loaded into the interlayer of memory. When she looked back, it felt like time was falling apart. There was a voice behind the ear in a trance, gentle and soft, with sadness and sweetness. It was very pleasant to hear, like the wine from the old cellar, which can make people drunk. Unlike the joy in the past, he crushed a whole period of time, eagerly, carefully, and tenderly holding her in his arms.

In this era, how lucky must a girl be to meet a boy who has upright views and has never been in love before? He is hidden among the crowd. His appearance is ordinary but clean and clear. He does not have an aura of excellence around him and cannot attract attention. He is just a white and clean boat. He has never been taken seriously by others and has never been firmly chosen. He likes to be alone and quiet. His silence is like the sea, like the deep love that has never been discovered in the deep sea.