a violinist with shameless appearance, self-closed personality, perverted personality, and exquisite craftsmanship.
This could have been a vulgar love triangle;
it could also be a love drama that everyone enjoyed;
or was it a literary film that revolved around the love of music,
or?
But wait, I don't think it's right, it's all wrong.
Does he pretend to have no feelings, or is he really heartless?
Does she love him, or is she just trying to convince herself that she loves her own fantasy?
Or, there is no illusion at all, they are actually in love.
Or, in fact, everything has nothing to do with love?
This is really a refutation. Do
we love the real person or the skin
that he reflects in our hearts?? The love you feel, is it the hormone he passed to you, or the illusion of your own hormone?
I feel that I'm about to start dealing with philosophical issues again, nothing more.
Others say, "God laughs when people think."
I'd better save my brain cells. . . . .
However, this movie is very well done,
whether it is music, pictures, or emotional portrayals, they are all in place.
A woman with such a sharp but true temperament,
no matter whether she gets love or not , whether she is really happy or
not will not prevent you from admiring this rose, which is like a winter rose, blooming alone.
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