When the peach blossoms fell all over my shoulders, I caught a piece of late spring, but saw that the snow hidden in your sleeves was quietly melting into the unsent letter last night. The copper bell on the corner of the eaves shook to break the midnight rain. I was counting the mottled annual rings on the moss, and suddenly I heard the wind say, the willow branches you broke that year are still taking root outside Chang'an City. The tea smoke curls over the bronze beast, the faint fragrance on your sleeves stirs up the sleeping ink, and the lotus blossoms suddenly bloom in the inkstone, which turns out to be the unfinished marriage invitation in the previous life. The purple flute is whining, the world of mortals is turning, and I look back and look forward to that one eyebrow in the painting. After many lives and deaths, it was you who took my place. Beautiful clothes and angry horses, I will dance a graceful song for you. After ten years of wandering, I will finally marry you. The glass cup is broken and the time passes, and the amber cup is empty. Only the moss in front of the steps is green, but remains covered with red every year. If you give me a hosta, I will tie your hair long. Wash away all the lead, and from now on, the sunset will be over the horizon.
Purpose: Inspiring stories