Why do so many people cry at Andy Lau's concerts? Because too many people born in the 70s and 80s don't marry for love, and don't marry the person they love the most. I'm almost 40, and I can't help myself even when I go to a concert. This is what music is. When the prelude starts, tears flow down my face. I remember the melody that flowed every day during the break broadcast on campus, and the fearless youth. Looking at the middle-aged men and women with fat bodies and sparse hair all over the venue, it turns out that youth is so far away from us. In that era of material and spiritual scarcity, we were like crazy weeds and wild flowers, without guidance and direction, growing wantonly and boundlessly. It seems that we are surrounded by all the rules and requirements. The feeling of depression and the deep desire to be understood in our hearts are constantly intertwined and collided, becoming our suppressed but unreleased emotions. That's youth, at that time, I was still thinking about what career to choose in the future and what kind of person to marry. Now, after a few years, we have started to arrange our children's marriages. I have almost forgotten that we once had hopes and dreams. Don’t laugh at those who are soaked in the heavy rain, and don’t laugh at those who cry while singing. Those tears have nothing to do with romance or a certain person. They are about remembering the time that I loved the most, and accepting the helplessness of not wanting to grow old but having to grow old. . .