Under 500 words. When you came, you spoke empty words, then vanished, cutting off all ties.
The moon slanted over the upstairs room as the fifth watch’s bell rang.
I dreamed of our distant parting and wept, but could not call you back.
The letter was dashed off in haste, the ink dark with grief.
Candlelight half-veiled the golden kingfisher embroidery;
the faint scent of musk drifted over the hibiscus embroidery.
Liu Lang already resented how far away Penglai Mountain was;
beyond it, another ten thousand layers of mountains stood.
Come on, Kezai``````````