He had always known that she was not beautiful, but he couldn't help but stop and look at her thin back silhouetted in the dusk, with a carved wooden hairpin gently holding up three thousand green hairs. The spring was brisk, or next to the peach blossoms, the biting chill became tranquil and pure. He looked at her for a long time and thought about why he left her alone and helpless in this world in the first place. Maybe it was because when they first met, she saw the peach blossoms blooming just right, and she smiled at him. The years were peaceful and her sorrow was gone. It's just that this smile will never be seen again with the bustling world, as if late spring has passed, and the forest flowers have withered the spring red, but it is too hasty.