That night the wind and snow had not stopped, and the moon was as cold as water. I rested on his lap and watched the pavilions and pavilions in the courtyard covered in the winter snow, with low red plum branches. He persistently played the song "Guan Shan Yue" repeatedly on the purple bamboo flute. The empty flute sound was sad and desolate, just like his expression and the moonlight tonight. It made me have the urge to cry. The prosperity of Luoyang has become an old scene from now on. I gently hugged his waist, the moonlight shone on his face, and his white jade cheeks were so beautiful that it made people sad.
I sighed softly: "Zijin, I will stay with you after all."