That month, that day,
we met in the plum garden.
Sparse shadows slanted, delicate fragrance drifted beneath the moon.
Who could have known that behind the plum blossoms stood a young one with hair in braids?
A plain robe, lightly stirred by the breeze,
a jade crown, graceful and elegant.
Gathering winter plums, brewing flower wine,
a glance, and spring waters flowed through my heart.
Where their eyes and brows brimmed with warmth,
love gathered.”
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