After the thick fog of youth dissipates, we will only then see clearly the steps of time come in three ways;
The future arrives slowly, the present flies by like an arrow, and the past remains eternally unmoving.
Whoosh~ whoosh~ whoosh~ whoosh~
One year, two years, three years... Ten years go by, the silent years seem to have a voice.
Traveling through long distances and years, enduring countless hardships and twists, driving wind from the air, knife from the wind, fire from the bones, and water from the fire, people think this is the end, yet the bright moon on the window hasn't moved an inch, and the world hasn't aged a minute.
Ningyuan, this livable small county in the northeastern coastal region of Dong, from the outside, hasn't changed much.
