Fate is like a rope. Its tightness depends on everyone's understanding of life and yearning.

**

Summer wind.

Su Mufeng, with his left hand leading the violin and bow and his right hand leaning against the window in his trousers pocket, had a faint sadness on his face, and his amber eyes gradually became out of focus, as if plunged into a layer of darkness.

"Bathing the breeze," George put aside a cup of coffee, glanced at him and asked, "Are you going to leave?"

Su Mufeng looked back at George and said, "She... No happiness yet." Then the sadness on his face was put away, and he became the...