I just want to write about her. After thinking about it for so long, I think that as long as I write the first line, I can continue to write smoothly, write "everything", everything that goes towards the rapids, and catch the things that rush towards me.
Like weaving. Make a pattern. Shuttle routing. Contempt the passage of time.
I don't think I'll stop telling it. I can win the world but not you.
Yes, I even got your lover. Yume, please remember me.
The little love song of the little Pipa boy in the Republic of China. When Yunwen and Juansheng saw Butterfly for the first time, she was wearing a black satin cheongsam, with domineering butterflies and peonies flying on the glossy satin. Juansheng praised her for her eyes like stars and her hair like a pile of crows. He praised her for being able to teach good people to obey even when she was singing.
Women who are too beautiful often cherish themselves too much and are not willing to easily admit true love to others. But what happened was that the rhyme was as pale as the landscape.
You owe me a goodbye, so I must owe you an apology. Yume, please remember me. Once, ever, and forever.