Fifth Winter

On that day when the Buddha saved all sentient beings, at the foot of Mount Putuo, he stood with a green body, his hands clasped together, and a few jade beads in his wrists. His eyebrows were sharp and his eyes were deep. The old master said, Zhou Jing, I believe in Buddhism but do not practice Buddhist deeds. I can't let go of the romance, I can't forget the foreign affairs ten miles away, and the worldly past is unrestrained and unrestrained. It cannot be said, it cannot be said, Amitabha. But later, on the streets of Paris, he met a girl. After that, all the beads were broken, and the corners of his eyes became red. "Xiaoqing, stay with me from now on." I will never let you down. "Mr. Zhou, I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend..." She let go of his hand in a panic and glanced back. Under the lanterns that day, Zhou Jing lit a cigarette, looking at the man and woman embracing each other. He laughed, "Wait a minute." Later, the beautiful girl rested gently on his shoulder. He stroked her hair and murmured a Cantonese love song. "Xiaoqing, I only hope that we will spend ten years together, be our pillow for a hundred years, and have a thousand-year relationship. I will never be in trouble for the rest of my life."