You may not see pictures in dreams, and you will never be sad after seeing each other for a long time in life.
A long time ago, she was alone, and after a long time, she was finally alone.
The babbling lyrics came from the balcony, and the vague lyrics were just "Three minutes of spring beauty is easy to come by, but it is difficult to paint a period of sadness."
Her hand holding the cup trembled, and the wine in the cup poured onto her sleeve, turning into a faint stain. She simply put down the cup and listened carefully to the lyrics on the other side. Playing is like life, just like singing your whole life.
The twilight is closing, the apricot blossoms are like rain, and the young man under the tree is smiling openly.
He happily fluttered the blue hairband towards the girl at the foot of the mountain.
Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes.
She saw her ten-year-old self sitting on a red pony, and the boy on the mountain was running towards her.
They hugged each other tightly, as if nothing in the world could separate them.
Never again.
And it seemed like it was the last time, with agarwood curling up, tung blossoms clustering in clusters, and the faint sound of the flute, she brewed the last pot of wine of the year, and he sat under the tree.
"Looking back is an illusion, but you know who is on the other side."
The lyrics are finished.
"I missed you," she heard herself say.