Falling Clouds Return

The cold rain of late autumn burst into the window lattice with the fragrance of osmanthus. Ye Zhen curled up on the bedside, listening to the leaves of the old locust tree outside the courtyard falling, as if someone was counting the days in her ears. She thought of the ginkgo tree below the modern apartment building. During this season, the golden leaves would cover the entire street, making a rustling sound when stepped on. The soup brought by Lu Jingyuan was steaming, and the fragrance was mixed with the sweetness of osmanthus. He scooped up a spoonful and handed it to her lips. The silver spoon reflected the paranoia in his eyes: "After drinking it, you won't think about useless things anymore."