Under the blue sky, entangled weeds cover the traces of an ancient civilization. Birds chirp busily, as if they are singing praises of this moment. Even Yingel, who is always serious, has changed into something both fashionable and casual. Standing there by the road, is she recalling that day, looking at the flocks of birds, or waiting for a chance encounter? Your eyes lock gazes under the guidance of a mystifying gust of wind. Do you want to set off now? Would you like to join her while the song of freedom still fills the air...