I once thought that youth was a grand fireworks, gorgeous and short-lived, leaving memories like stars in the sky. I thought love was the brightest bouquet among the fireworks, able to illuminate all my confusion and cowardice. It wasn't until later that I realized that after some fireworks burned out, what was left behind was not starlight, but bone-chilling coldness and endless ashes. And I, Fang Hui, spent my hasty years falling in love with someone and losing myself.
