Holding the hand of the son, choosing a city to grow old, probably because there were traces of love.

I don't know if I love him or not, or if I can love him.

From the very beginning of the encounter, I was perhaps destined to lose full control of this man.

His ambition, and his willingness to be lonely, is itself contradictory. For this kind of character, I have little chance of winning.

In the world of feelings, there is no room for sand, and there are no secrets to speak of.

But for Lu Peng, I have never been able to see it thoroughly. Looking at flowers in the fog and looking at the moon in the water, sometimes very close, sometimes far away.

Start over, to be honest, it's not that I haven't thought about it. But my gut tells me it's more like some kind of temptation. I'm not even sure if there is any other meaning behind what he said.

For Zihan, Lu Peng obviously still has special feelings, otherwise, Lin Yan would not have gone to Hainan to live with his parents.

So, there is no answer to this question of his.

After so many years and so many things, some things are like knives carved into the bones, scarred, grinding and bleeding, scabbing and difficult to peel off.

What's more, Lu Peng attaches great importance to brotherhood, this is true for Lao Zhu, and the same is true for Junzi.

Maybe in his heart, I'm always just an accessory, dispensable.

— Out of context

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