[Jian San: Fo Xiu] A Thought of Longing

Before a thought could come to pass, we were hurriedly parted, and the flute's notes faded into cold silence.

In spring, willow fluff filled the city. In summer, lotus blossoms scented ten miles of water.

Osmanthus bloomed in autumn, and a light snow fell in winter.

I thought we'd never meet again. Thankfully, time remained unchanged.

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A story about a graceful young lady and a little bald monk, born from a wild idea.

The title and chapter names come from Xiao Lou's poem