Reminiscing About Old Things

A bowl of peanuts, two ounces of wine, three sighs, and four lines of tears. In a daze, Xiaozhou seemed to see those things again. I remember those days when there were celadon bowls with red tables and white candles. Reminiscing about old times, remembering old times. Is reality too false, or falsehood is too real. Xiaozhou couldn't tell what was clear and what was blurry. He raised his glass to the snow, and no one knew who he was raising to. He was crying and could no longer see the scenery in the snow clearly, but there was still a vague figure in his memory. "**!" It was not just the wine that went down his throat in the last sip. As for what else there was, no one else knew, only Zhou Yuhui knew in his heart. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.