At eighteen, he carried pride and glory, solemnly swearing on the street in the early morning that he would return to marry the girl he loved after achieving success.

At twenty-eight, he allowed himself to fall, utterly hollow.

Chen Wang once thought he would grow old alone.

It was she who approached step by step, jogging all the way, bravely walking up to him, and then looking up to tell him—

I’ve already walked ninety-nine steps. Can you try to take even just one step?

The light has already come to you. Can you try not to run away anymore?

For your light.