In March of the twenty-eighth year of Jingyuan. After the rain in Lin'an.
There are three or five young children playing in a circle in a back alley. There is a small boat on the river, dressed in white clothes.
Someone was sitting upstairs, drinking a glass of wine for most of the tea. Someone passed by on horseback downstairs, and he raised his eyebrows unintentionally. The two looked at each other for only a moment, and the sound of horse hooves faded away.
The guest upstairs smiled slightly, and finally took a sip of wine, "So it's him."
On the boat on the river, someone was leaning against the red and green trees. "It turned out to be him."
Under the bright glazed tiles, with an occasional shade, someone opened a letter and knocked on the table, "So it's him."