All along, I've considered myself to be an emotional person. Whenever I want to cry, no matter when or where, I can always shed tears, and that feeling is strangely indescribable. Perhaps it's moved by emotion, perhaps it's heartache. When I want to laugh, whether truly happy or putting on a forced smile, I will always laugh thoroughly, laugh brilliantly. In other people's eyes, I have always been a strong child, with a bit of an odd temper and a stubborn personality - - -.『Falling in love with movies, falling in love with you, who's like a mystery』- - Life is like a live-action movie, and you and I are together portraying every episode of the story. Dawn moonlight, dusk sunset. At each different time period, similar stories happen. Parting and death, joy and sorrow...- - This winter I fell in love with watching movies, becoming addicted to the ambiguous atmosphere in the cinema. Choosing a less crowded time to watch a movie I like has become my hobby. Watching movies is also like watching life; movies are the epitome of life. Even in each movie, I search for my own reflection, scenes that seem familiar as if they happened somewhere before, carefully recounting them only to realize they happened to me. With more and more people coming and going in life, some people and events will be forgotten, just like movies once watched. After one screening, they frequently come back into mind during a certain period, casually mentioning a few classic lines, then slowly forgetting them over time. Until one day, I meet you, a sense of déjà vu. A strange face, yet kind and bright, you are like a quiet orchid blooming in my life...Suddenly, it feels like returning to that summer, your hand holding mine as we stroll together by the seaside...- - In my story, you once came but did not stay; in your story, I once stayed but never entered. Passing each other only takes a moment, but turning around, we are already far apart at the ends of the earth. Our story stops there, without any further chapters. Time has stranded those memories that should not be forgotten, and years have smoothed over those bitter and painful marks. The road we walked together is clear and winding, shallow footprints like a beach washed by waves, blurred and lost. The figure at the crossroads gradually moves farther away, finally disappearing at the horizon. At the next intersection, who will you meet, and who will meet me? It’s a beginning filled with questions. - - You in the distance are still busy, traveling between big cities every day. Occasionally, you send a few words of greeting, but there is no longer the warmth and ambiguity of the past, concise and clear. The distance between our hearts seems to have widened, a gap impossible to bridge appearing in between. Our story drifts away like this, scattered among the crowds, unwilling to bring up those past events. But on each anniversary, I look up at the sky, facing your city, searching for those black-and-white films that belong to us. On the other side of the city, at the edge of the sky, under a streak of blue, thoughts turn into countless straight lines connecting the sadness and loneliness at both ends. Yes, the sky is crying, and my heart begins to feel damp.- - My life has always been quiet but not dull, because you, like a mystery, have always been my leading actor. My biological clock is reversed, yet I don't feel tired, because I like this freedom of returning to simplicity at night. This kind of life has always had you, this kind of movie has always had you. We once said we would perform this play together, continuing the story. Now, we each direct and act in our own lives, no longer seeing each other's figures. Wandering alone in a strange city, the heart numbed by long-term drifting occasionally awakens sleeping memories, and the scent of you still lingers in the recollections...- - II. 『The setting sun is infinite, warmth is everywhere』- - I often read novels and magazines, and the little tests on them always interest me. After countless tests, I found out I am an emotional person. I am often moved by small scenes for a long time, not knowing if it's due to my sentimentality or the flood of tears. This seemingly ordinary emotion always makes me unable to resist letting my tears wash my cheeks again and again.- - Time writes on the face, but carves deeper in the heart. Life goes on monotonously. That noon, the sunlight was warm. Along the noisy streets, poplar trees stood quietly. Not far away, I saw a harmonious and peaceful scene. Two elderly people over sixty, hand in hand, sitting on a wooden bench resting. The old lady seemed tired from walking, leaning on her partner's shoulder, closing her eyes to rest, their hands full of vicissitudes tightly clasped together. I naturally thought of a sentence: "Holding your hand, growing old with you." Under the sunlight, that is their warmth, simple and enduring.- - In life, there is someone who will accompany you through wind and rain, watching flowers bloom and fade, appreciating the gentle flow of water. When we grow old and gray-haired, there is still a pair of warm hands guiding you home, this kind of touching feeling is simple but real. Looking at their backs, I couldn’t help shedding tears, realizing that even the setting sun in the twilight is full of infinite warmth.- - Time flows, youth fades, morning and evening continuously replace and chase each other, flowers bloom for a season and eventually wither, short life yet radiates the most brilliant light all the time. I start imagining my old age, in the vast sea of people, when I grow old and my black hair turns white, who will accompany me to complete this journey? Walking hand in hand through streets and alleys, whispering sweet nothings to each other. Under the sunset, watching the flowers by the window together, in life, having you is enough.- - III. 『Feel with heart, moving moments are everywhere』- - As the end of the year approaches, the whole city seems suddenly empty. Each wandering heart is rushing to a harbor called home. My mother urged me to go home days ago, hearing her nagging but warm voice on the phone made me realize I haven't gone home for a year. That day, my mother actually cried while talking on the phone, her sobbing voice triggered my homesickness. And so, the two of us, mother and daughter, forgot to talk while crying on both ends of the phone. How could I not want to go home? Missing family even more during festivals, at this time, I envy the children holding their mothers' hands on the roadside and cry.- - After hanging up the phone, my emotions were still unstable, recalling the bitterness and hardship of leaving home for the first time. To pursue my dream, I carried my drawing board alone to that bustling metropolis, seventeen years old. Many nights I spent crying, unable to sleep, my dependence on home became a habit. Now, accustomed to wandering at the edges of each city, I seem to forget that going home sometimes is a responsibility, aging parents always worrying about their distant children. Looking up at the sky towards my hometown, unfamiliar yet close, long-lost relatives, are you all well?- - My wandering heart has never found its home, but the warmth and moving moments given by my family always encourage me to face life strongly. This kind of moving doesn't need fancy language, my mother's nagging is instead the most warming thing.- - The night is dim, the edge of the city enveloped in darkness. I still follow the monotonous route, repeating yesterday's steps. On the bus ride home after work, the preview of Wang Baoqiang's version of "Forward for the New China" was playing. Dong Cunrui holding the explosive pack, shouting "For the new China, charge!" The image of the hero reappears, history repeats itself. Instantly, a warm current surges deep within my heart, tears fall. When I wiped them away, I noticed a man beside me also had moist eyes. Yes, that resounding vow forever stays in our hearts, Dong Cunrui's heroic deed continues to move every Chinese person. Such an interpretation of heroism is a lesson in ideology and a cleansing of the soul, no need for too many fancy words, just a careful experience is enough to make the heart tremble.- - In life, moving things happen all the time, simple and real. Friends all say I appear strong on the outside, but inside I'm fragile to the point of breaking easily, maybe this is the real me. In daily life, an unexpected text message, a warm greeting, a caring blessing. These small moving moments I collect and store in a corner of my heart. During leisure time, I sit in the sunlight, flipping through these moving memories, and then my lips curl upward.- - Alone in my time, alone in my wandering. Tired, I look up at the sky, feeling the warmth of the sun. Exhausted, I feel life with my heart, experiencing every moving moment. Life is like this, simple but warm.