At the end of autumn, catkins were flying in the south of the Yangtze River, and my mood was completely released. I was very happy with my decision. The tail of life was not left in that cold chemotherapy. I don't want to miss such a beautiful scenery, even though it looks very lonely. Now is the last day of late autumn, and this small southern town will look even quieter, like a young woman watching her husband return home from outside the Great Wall. She? No one knows what kind of result we are waiting for.
I first set sail on this journey just to commemorate the beauty of life. That was before I met you... Then, I think it was for a promise: "My promise with you."
Wuzhen at dusk makes me want to sleep. You don't want to be busy carrying the boat home. Because you don't want to. You and your boat are docked alone in the river, just like the fallen leaves in northern autumn. You squat quietly on the bow of the boat, your shadow swaying in the afterglow of the setting sun. For a long time, I looked up at the sky and lowered my head in loneliness, without saying a word. The clear water reflected the scale ripples. A tear fell lightly from his eyes. Simply, Anjing fell into the water, ripples rippled, and his face was blurred. It broke, scattered, and sank. Every detail was seen through my eyes, and the hidden things in my heart were inadvertently lured out. I have to stop myself from throbbing like this.