In the winter of the twelfth lunar month, during the Lantern Festival, the bridge deck in clear lake was crowded with people, which seemed familiar. A few days of dreams, like a profound fleeting time, like a fly escaping, how can I get my wish, but I wake up speechless. I just can't bear to be bored to my chest. I just hope to meet you again in the afterlife. How many people are as beautiful as you? I only hate that I didn't get your words.