The cold wind of the twelfth lunar month blows the youth's melancholy, and the youth's thoughts are hidden in every tear. His appearance is a peach blossom shower from winter to spring? Or the lingering cold air of winter will erode the boy's last bit of joy. Is this young, forbidden love coming to fruition? Or as the winter snow melts away quietly. Who would have thought that the carefully planned encounter would turn out to be a dream.
Intention: Thoughts on love