The wind and moon are boundless, and there is love in the world.
Someone came on the moon, hiding half a volume of fragments of poems in his sleeve;
Someone was leaning against the building to listen to the rain, with a ten-mile red makeup reflected in his eyes.
He was a soul on the stage, singing all the joys and sorrows, but never shed a tear for himself.
He is a beam of light in the world of mortals, illuminating thousands of passers-by, but his own shadow cannot be seen.
Begonia blossoms bloom and fade, red lotuses burn and fade.
Deep in the bamboo shadows, who is making tea to entertain old friends?
When there are peach blossoms, who calls the old name in the dream?
In this life, he has seen too many people——
Some people broke all the flowers in Chang'an for him, and some people paid all the debts in the world for him.
But in the end, it was just——
A cup of tea is cool, the breeze is refreshing on my sleeves, I wake up from my dream in the middle of the night, and there is no one around me.
There is no love in this book, only parting.
There is no intensity, only residual warmth.
Please, gentlemen, prepare your handkerchiefs before entering this door.
(Narrated at the beginning of the volume)
I don't know how to write thrilling stories, I can only remember the passing time.
If you are passing by, why not come in and have a cup of tea and listen to me tell some stories about old friends.
After the lecture, the tea cooled down and everyone dispersed.
Grateful.
Destined person, the tea is cold.
The story has just begun.
If you think it's still good enough to eat, please stay and taste it slowly.
Intention: A cup of tea is cool, the breeze is refreshing on both sleeves, I wake up from a dream in the middle of the night, and there is no one around me.
