When Qianye spent the whole night blowing whistle on the tree, she left the next day without taking away a trace of nostalgia. Although the cuckoo will cry sadly here every night in the future, calling "cuckoo cuckoo", it seems to comfort the sad people at the beginning "Don't cry, don't cry."
No matter how the autumn water can see through it, it is hard to close the water with longing. The promise that was as thin as cicada wings when I was young is just a long-lasting dream weaved. After waking up from the dream, even if I climb the west tower, I can't blow away the continuous longing like annual rings.