Jiang Er never imagined that on the day she unexpectedly lost her life, her husband Fu Tinghan, with whom she had shared three years of a marriage as cold as ice, would rush into a hundred-year-old snow-covered mountain like a madman and carry her home all by himself. Kneeling in the snow with bloodshot eyes, he called her name again and again: "Er'er, I'll take you home." When she opened her eyes again, she had somehow returned to her senior year of high school at eighteen. In the last row of the classroom sat the silent boy whom the entire class disliked for being deaf and strange, and whom nobody wanted to sit beside. He slowly raised his eyes and looked at her. It was Fu Tinghan. Only then did Jiang Er belatedly realize that this man, whom she had overlooked for an entire lifetime, had secretly been watching her countless times ever since they were eighteen.