The Qingming rain fell heavily, and Wen Qinglang's originally clear and resolute face was covered with stubble. The man in blue did not open his umbrella and came to the stone monument with only a white porcelain wine bottle in his hand.
The liquid in the wine pot fell to the ground, and the fragrance of tea overflowed.
I remember you never liked drinking.
The man in blue had a sad smile on his face.
I still remember your smile when you promised me to come to the city to find a solution.
There is also a pile of brand new books in front of the table.
And the touch of your thin lips under the moonlight night.
And the eyes hidden behind the willows that day.
Yes. I know it all.
It's just that brother, you don't understand how vicious the people in the village are, and you don't understand that my pedantic head is full of bastards like the Four Books and Five Classics.
Why should I care about this?
Wen Qinglang gently touched the stone tablet, as if touching the face of the man in white.
In this life, I have failed you after all.
Conception: