'The spring of the city is deep, the ruins of the ruins are growing in vegetation, the past events are vividly remembered in my heart, and the moonlight is cold, when will the mandarin duck brocade be woven? The lonely and floating life is gone, like the passing years of waiting in vain. ' He was looking at the painting again, which showed two old people leaning on each other, with yellow leaves flying all over the sky. He closed it slowly, feeling less excited than before, as if the years had really diluted all the joys and sorrows.
Conception: