Open the window and look out at the scenery of Xiaoxiang. The sky is as dark as tears, the fallen flowers are falling into the dust, and I am counting the days until Qingming. Where is he?
At night, wearing a black hooded cloak, he walked into the scene with square steps. The wide brim of his hat prevented wandering souls on the roadside from seeing his thin face. The falling flowers in the sky accompanied by the drizzle hit his lonely figure, and the soaked paper money on the ground that had not yet been delivered was pricking his feet. He walked slowly with his wife's newly brewed wine for that day, and came towards Lanruo accompanied by the sound of a suppressed cough.
Conception: