Writing an Ink Painting to Commemorate Lovesickness

That year in the small curtain in the south of the Yangtze River, the breeze by the lake was restrained. Whose plain clothes infected whose blood... If we are separated, it seems like a gain or a loss, who can save me... Acacia Pavilion on the Acacia End, similar trees below the Acacia End, we can't see each other, only lovesickness, who would have thought that lovesickness is like heart tearing... ——Brother Cang Yuan, do you regret it? ——Shaoqing, do you regret it? ——I don't regret it. I, Long Shaoqing, only had one life, so what should I regret if I lost ten thousand lives to him, Leng Aofeng? Worth it... ——Long Shaoqing! Open your eyes and look at me... ——Cang Yuan was silent like this when he died, but he was crueler than Shaoqing. Before he died, he told me that he was cold, so I tried my best to warm him, but he just kept getting cold... Cang Yuan, have you seen Shaoqing... ——Yifan, Shaoqing is so lively, even more active than you were when you were twenty-one years old. He is like this... I'm really not used to it... Related copy (to be released): The intoxicating breeze of writing ink and wash Writing the Ink Painting of the Broken Years (Xiao Yifan, Mu Cangyuan)