The passing years are flowers, their petals vivid and their stamens fragrant.
Everyone walks their own path, admiring the scenery along the way. They may cross paths with someone for a brief moment, but after laughing and crying together, they must eventually part.
These are the joys and sorrows, the reunions and separations, in the writings of Lord Siming.
The flower called the passing years watches in silence, saying nothing.
Every time you miss someone, a flower blooms along your path. Every time you meet someone new, the flower that bloomed before quietly withers.
That is forgetting.
Wuxin has lived for all these years, and it has not been entirely without gain.
She has learned to forget.
The passing years are so beautiful; one flower is enough.
Not bad, the writing is beautiful and it has great potential. Come on