Red clothes are not dull, white clothes are not tired.
As light as a flying bird, as heavy as five mountains.
Even if we meet, it is fate. If we look back into the past, we can also find that the fateful thing has already appeared in front of us in an instant. Many people passed each other and never stayed on the same road. If one day you meet someone you think looks familiar, maybe it will be another chance encounter.
Different people pass by a place every day, but only the sound of landing footsteps is engraved in my mind. I believe that it is not a chance encounter, but a destiny.
A touch of bright red dissolves into the snow-white vastness. The red fades away from the beauty, and the white washes away the aloofness, until it merges into one and returns to nature.
All these encounters are just to prove that there are no helpless lovers in this world, only lovers who brush away the confusion and stand quietly on the other side.
This is a coincidence.