Actually, We All Have Regrets

A tribute to Tank Kobe's slice-of-life style, capturing the restraint and regrets of adulthood.

Zhou Bei always says, "Let's go. Anywhere is fine."

After drifting back from Guangzhou to Mianyang, he carries a guitar, takes design commissions by day, and sings in rotation in a voice chat room at night. Life is like a cup of lukewarm water, neither here nor there.

Until "September," a longtime listener of two years, sends him a private message: a surgery with a fifty percent chance of success, and an impromptu trip along the Sichuan-Tibet Highway.

Amid the wind and snow on Zheduo Mountain, two restrained adults go from strangers online to kindred spirits.

Later, he meets a girl with a bell on her wrist. Walking the same mountain road together fills it with sweetness, but in the end, she too drifts away on the wind.

He walks the same road on Zheduo Mountain three times, with a different companion each time.

Only later does he understand: the scenery never changed. It was the people looking at it who changed.

To walk side by side for even one stretch of the road is already a stroke of luck.