She still remembers the first time she saw him. On the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month of the Xinsi year, wintersweet branches were hanging, and he held a bright red umbrella, and his white clothes seemed to melt into the snow.
He handed the umbrella to her and said, "Don't you feel lonely if you stay here alone in Zhishan?"
She looked up at him, her eyes full of confusion.
This is it for this life, maybe I won't see him again in the next life.