In my mind, love is unrequited love, unprofitable, just like Bai Lianhua, pure without rosy clouds. Of course, there are too many kinds of real love, and the kind of love I yearn for is that kind. If you must use one dish to describe it, it is thick soup, water is "he" and seasoning is "I". Under the action of fire, water surrounded me and slowly enjoyed the process of "cooking". Under the interaction, it became delicious soup. In fact, "home" is gradually sublimated.