A short article about the twenty-four solar terms, twenty-four short stories corresponding to the twenty-four o'clock
The woman was kneeling in the snow, wearing a light purple shirt, stubbornly guarding the pavilion with a row of plain white lanterns hanging in front of her, with no intention of leaving.
The golden incense burner placed on the carpet in the house raised wisps of clear smoke, which seemed to be a slight sigh, sad and cool.
The maid sighed and said after a while, Miss, you really can't help that girl. She has been kneeling there all day and night.
Help, help whom? The woman outside the door only wants to die. Once the door is opened, will it help her or harm her?