； She was his patient. From a doctor's point of view, he should not have feelings for her, even if she is extraordinarily beautiful.

 ；  ；  ； She had a very strange disease, as if the whole world had nothing to do with her, she only cared about herself and the imaginary space she had constructed. The doctors were helpless against her because she refused to communicate with any doctors. Disappointed, he volunteered to give it a try.

 ；  ；  ； So in addition to the treatment of other doctors who regularly and quantitatively gave her medicine, he also added a lot of adjuvant treatments. He bought her books, music tapes, flowers, and meticulous care and attention, and he believed that all his efforts would eventually bring back her who had been lost.

 ；  ；  ； Spring went to autumn, and she showed no signs of getting better.

 ；  ；  ； He drew up a detailed plan. Combined with the various medicines given to her, he called it a secret prescription. Since then, he has started a new journey in life. Unconsciously, treating her and curing her illness became a strong belief and an indispensable part of his life.

 ；  ；  ； Flowers bloom and fall for another year. For 365 days and nights, he never stopped pouring his passion into her. Giving injections, taking medication, talking to her, listening to music with her, what he did has long gone beyond the level of care a doctor cares for a patient, and all this is unintentionally accomplished in a gradual change.

 ；  ；  ； He thought right, the proximity of one heart to another would not be without feeling, and one morning, as usual, he went to feed her medicine. She woke up and looked at him, and suddenly sighed: "Why have you always been so good to me?" It became a sin for me not to speak. ”

 ；  ；  ； His success caused a sensation throughout the hospital, and people said that he had created a miracle in the history of medicine. He smiled faintly, noncommittal, for he knew that if this was a miracle, then it would all be due to the prescription he had drawn up. At the strong request of the dean, he announced this prescription: one love, two sincerity, with three points of simmering in four times, until the six gods of the five drugs are one, and then seven times of taking it, a total of eight servings, nine courses of treatment, and finally the most critical part is to wait with very patience.

 ；  ；  ； The crowd was amazed and asked, "What is this prescription?" ”

 ；  ；  ； "The prescription for love," she replied for him with a smile, "a prescription for love written with the whole life." ”

 ；  ；  ； They married peacefully, and she died quietly shortly after the marriage. From the very beginning, she knew that she had a terminal illness, so she refused to communicate with people and refused treatment. It was he who cured her heart with this love prescription and aroused her courage to start life again. Although this prescription could not cure her terminal illness, it did make her short life burn out the love of her life. And she was able to tell her loved ones that she was dead without regrets. All this, for the prescription of love, it is enough.

You have more important things. At least that's what you thought at the time.

Your name is Arjen. She said what a good name you have to name. Your name is Feiyang.

At that time, you saw her smoky ten fingers, and looked up at her side and neck, and there was a red thread on her neck with a jade pendant

She I like jade. I also like cigarettes. Both are nostalgic stuff.

You ask, do you like to look up.

She said yes. But you smile and say she's different from you.

It's been a long time since you met from time to time. She said do you remember my name? You thought about it for a long time and asked if it was called Xia.

She nodded. Then she lit a cigarette, and she smiled faintly and said that the past was like smoke. Then the day begins to wait for you in front of the long river, even if the waiting does not end in a straight line - the beginning of the first waiting is diluted by time. It seems like she's still there.

You shook your head numbly, your shoulder was bruised, and after countless bandages, you couldn't see any traces of blood, but your face was still pale

Do you remember my name? She stood up suddenly, stepped on the cigarette butt that had been thrown on the ground, and had the intention of leaving, and the footing that paced around represented a restless departure.

Be. Natsu, right.

Be. I'm going to be away for a while, or I'll come back.

Then I will remember you. You talk like a joke. She turns her head and smiles at you, like a child.

In the end, the body that had no time to say goodbye was scattered in the air like smoke.

You just turn your head for a moment and suddenly remember what she had said.

She said that life is like smoke. There will be a day when it will dissipate. Some of the feasts in the world are scattered like smoke, where else will there be any encounters.

You begin to ask yourself if your feast has been dispersed