Nonsense copy:
The old attic was ablaze during the war.
Perhaps even today I still recall that it was normal for me to just say that.
Maybe you will touch the book from the past and think of the story you no longer read.
The sound of the flute has stopped, but who makes the sadness of being down in the memory linger again.
Chang'an is missing. We don't see the old you and me anymore.
Quoting a sentence from Nalan Xingde's Ci: "Betting on books will make the fragrance of tea disappear. At that time, I just thought it was ordinary."
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