When I saw her for the first time, she was just like her white clothes like snow this afternoon, with long hair shawl, standing quietly like that, but that time she was under the sycamore tree, carrying a drawing board on her back, and the corners of her clothes and skirts were fluttering like butterflies in the breeze. The afternoon sun shone through the lush branches and leaves and fell on the tips of her hair. She gently raised her hand to receive a beam of sunshine, and a string of soft green light appeared on her white wrist.
After many years, I still clearly remember those eyes that were as bright as stars, bright and clear, looking up at the beam of light and smiling slightly, full of spiritual charm.
Ten years have passed in the blink of an eye. Without this encounter, you would have been the most beautiful memory in my mind. I would have grown old alone along my own track, and God has allowed me to meet you again. At this moment, it is never a day earlier or a day later.