"The deceased is like a husband, not giving up day and night." Time passes quietly without our knowing it. Before we found out when the osmanthus tree bloomed, we were already amazed by its "thousand flowers pressing branches" posture. Days flow day after day, as if nothing has changed every day, but when you look back one day, you suddenly find that everything is different, just like osmanthus in the city. With obscure efforts, until one day suddenly covered with trees.