Time Passes, Mood

There was a constant ticking sound outside the window, and the icicles on the eaves began to melt. The sound was particularly clear in this lonely afternoon, as if someone was constantly beating the drum in his heart. Xu Qingyan was sitting in front of the case. The wind swept the melted snow, carrying a hint of the fragrance of plum blossoms, mixed with moisture and came in. It blew out the candlelight and made her shadow long and thin. In her hand she held a letter with frayed edges and dark blood stains. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the words "Yan Buyan" written on the corner of the envelope, which made her smile sadly. It was Shen Qinyan's handwriting, as domineering as ever, with a sense of heartlessness. After a long time, she finally opened the seal gently. The letter paper was a little rough, as if it had been hastily torn out the inside pages of a ledger. She read the letter carefully, trying to find words such as "safety" and "return", but her eyes became redder and redder until she saw: "... The snow on the border is so heavy that I can't see the way home... For all this, A-Yan, can you forgive me? When I return to the capital, I will definitely follow the rules... Are you willing..." In a daze, the snowy scene in front of me faded away and turned into the hustle and bustle of that spring. That was the day they first met, and the peach blossoms on Chang'an Street were in full bloom. The young man is unruly and unruly, and he is willing to be the first person, but when Xu Qingyan is around, he is willing to be a foil. When the cicadas were chirping in the summer, he was like this too. Holding a piece of crumpled paper in his hand, he approached her with a playful smile and insisted on asking her to compose a poem. The sunshine at that time was warm, the wind was soft, and his smiling eyes were full of light, not at all as embarrassed as in the letter. Xu Qingyan closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, there was only a cold clarity left in her eyes. She picked up a pen and wrote a short poem on the back of the letter paper with the little blurred ink marks. We meet each other in spring and know each other in summer, I dare to ask who knows your heart. The autumn wind can't hide anyone's mood, The traces of snow are getting lighter and the lovesickness is overflowing. The poem is completed. Xu Qingyan put down her pen, stood up, walked to the window, and opened the closed window. "Shen Qinyan, I wrote you the poem I promised you." Even if the sun comes out in the winter in Beijing, the cold wind is extremely biting. The icicles on the eaves still made a ticking sound. Xu Qingyan looked out the window, holding the yellowed and wet letter paper in her hand, unable to help but be lost in thought. She looked at the red plum he had sent to her in the courtyard. It was now in bloom, blooming beautifully and movingly red. The traces of snow on the ground are getting lighter, but no one can understand the overflowing lovesickness. Purpose: Maintain your will even if there are external voices