The wind blew and rolled up their black hair. Their long hair was entangled in the wind, forming a posture that would never be separated.
Yue Ming put his hands around Ning Zhixuan's neck. He lowered his head and asked her gently: "What are you thinking about?"
She buried her head on his shoulder and said lazily: "A poem."
Visitors come from far away and leave me paper and ink.
The upper part is about Li Wenyan, the lower part is about longing for lovesickness.