On the third snow of the winter solstice, Lu Che found a faded blue cloth bag in the archives.
The old photo album in the bag hides the ginkgo rain in the military compound in 1987, the temperature of the porridge in the field hospital, the drunken confession in the red soup of the hot pot, the six years of being torn apart by the old leader, and the last part swept away by the flood.
Shen Yanqing carved two stones "Chang" and "An" stones, one was held in his hand and sank to the bottom of the river, and the other was buried under the ginkgo tree to wait for his old friend.
The snow fell down the long steps, making no sound.
Some Chang'an will never be able to grow or be settled.
(I just wrote it out of my own interest. Don't delve into the logic or the plot. Don't talk about the characters. You can talk about the author.)
(If you don't like it, you can just swipe it away. Thanks for stopping. The same applies to other articles)
Intention: I can't help myself, but it ends with regret