With a brush dipped in color, the strokes dance around my fingers, full of flair. Yet a tender heart must watch its youth fade. Was I once so infatuated in a past life, or is it something you cannot forget in this one? Rain falls by night over the Qinhuai River, water drops entwining. Who is playing that flute? Is this love I owed you in a past life, transformed into the memories of longing I carry now? The lights of Jinling City flicker in the bleak autumn chill, and dark tresses turn to frost and rain.
Theme:
I don't believe it anymore. Keep grading.
Why are some of my comments missing for no reason?
I like the sweet ending. Don't torture me. Don't torture me.
Who is worthy of saying thank you for the flowers? I wish you more rain to clear up the dust. Like this sentence
Haha, I have left the column. Let's take a happy spin.