In her eyes, he was a poet who was loyal to the country and the people, a son who respected his mother, and a husband who loved her but abandoned him.
They had wonderful memories and sad endings.
The hairpin is what distinguishes him from her, and it is also the only thing left by her side to help her recall the past.
One word of words wiped away all her will to live. The deepest love is only filled with hatred, but in the end she can't hate it as much as love.
One word of words smoothed away all his motivation to move forward. The love was deep in his bones but he wanted to forget it, but it was no match for the short-lived lovesickness.
The begonia flowers have fallen, there is him and there is her. Only two poems remain and have been passed down through the ages.
This is a short story, written in the way the heroine narrates the past. It is also my first novel.
Conception: