"Hey, little fox, what's your name?" He lowered his head and grabbed her ear and asked, "Name? Hmm... What is that? Is it delicious?" She blinked and looked at him blankly. He gently held her in his arms, stroked the special shiny brocade hair on her head, and whispered: "Looking at the cherry blossoms in the sky, your eyes are blurry, as if you are drunk, so I call you 'Drunk Sakura'. What do you think? Hmm? Drunk Sakura?"
The falling cherry blossoms are followed by the moonlight, and the charming silk lingers in the dark eyes. Each stroke of your painting is engraved on my heart like a dagger. What is left on the paper are dots of ink marks, but when it is scratched, it is a series of scars in my heart. I am willing to give everything for you, just for you to send me a nostalgic look back when I return to the ferry. This person has passed away, will we recognize each other at a glance in the next life?