Misty Rain over Jinling

In the ancient city of Nanjing, in a teahouse on a street corner, a pretty girl and a Taoist priest would often go there to listen to stories. But the old man telling them could never see the pretty girl... [Those good old days gradually sank beneath the setting sun, stranded in the soft hollows of memory. The foolish girl who once loved to go wild had long since grown old beneath the frost of time. Beneath the parasol trees, a beauty sat on a swing. Amid the clatter of hoofbeats, her silvery laughter bloomed through the night. They hurried past, as distant as drifting clouds and flowing light, so far away.] [The story had no ending. When she awoke, Nanjing had already fallen into a deep sleep. Later, everyone said it was such a shame: the pretty girl named Lu Yuyuan had swallowed gold and killed herself in her bridal sedan chair. In Jinling's misty, mournful rain, a faint sob can always be heard, accompanied by the footsteps of little deerskin boots. How many years has beauty been left in the cold?] My profile: (Follow it so you'll know as soon as I publish something new ^_^) Theme: