When they first met, she was fifteen and he was twenty.
When she first met him, he was playing the harp in the bamboo forest, and the strings moved her heart.
When he first met her, she danced at the banquet and moved his heart.
He looked for her for a white jade hairpin and put it on her.
She danced "Golden Thread" for him, and he played the guqin for her.
But... It will be a few years later when we meet again.
He went to her hometown and felt like old friends at the first sight. They strolled along the lotus pond and spoke softly.
She told her sister that they were friends catching up on old times.
He was heartbroken and she didn't know.
Later, they interacted more and more, and later, he married her.
The world was changing. He was busy with official duties and became ill due to overwork. Once again he fell off his horse on his way home, ending his worldly career.
She learned that, holding the white jade hairpin, she felt sad and heartbroken.
But... He will never know again.
No one will ever put that white jade hairpin on her, and no one will play the piano for her.
Zhou Lang, Xiao Qiao is still here, why did you leave?
In the next life Zhou Lang plays, Xiao Qiao dances with golden thread...
How's that?
Order°
The curtains are drizzling, and I say goodbye with a song, and the bamboo forest caresss the music of the piano; it was you who danced with "Golden Thread", which brings back a few memories of me now; the bamboo umbrella is tilted slightly, covering half of the ripples, for fear of listening to his words in those years; we know that after farewell, the five strings are sparse and the clouds are muddy, who has Zhou Lang's heart fallen in love with? The years are countless, old friends are nowhere to be found, and most importantly, they cannot be retained in this world; only the past is still the same, the love is tangled and combed, and the time is wasted for no reason; three thousand worldly roads, only nine states, what do I want from the Three Kingdoms? It has nothing to do with Qingyun Road, nothing to do with poetry and books, no place for you, no Three Kingdoms. In the middle of midsummer, you leave a letter and sign it. Write "Farewell, my hometown is the country of Wu". But the tears only wet my clothes, and I am always related to being haggard for many years. The dream is faded, the dream is cold, I will carry you on your return journey to compensate for my joys and sorrows, the place where I remember the most is the hardest to tell.
(Note: The preface is not entirely original, and is partially modified for reference.)