Floating life is like a gift, how young you are, the flowers are blooming, and the yellow leaves are coming again. There are so many hatreds in the world, how can it be like stealing a moment of joy.
The brush traces and the sleeves flick.
A painting from another life, a scattered peach blossom forest, and the cinnabar between the eyebrows of the person in the painting.
The situation doesn't wait for anyone, and it turns into silk in a moment.
In the end, only the ink marks on the tip of the pen remain, and the woman's eyebrows and eyes remain the same as before.
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