"What's your name?" Gu Jueshu asked.
"Others call me Zhuqing, the bamboo with black and green leaves, and the clear breeze," he said.
"This name seems elegant and aloof, but in fact it is stingy and vulgar. Why don't you call me Gu Yanqiu from now on, 'The inkstone hides the fragrance of books, and the bright moon brings the clear autumn.' One inkstone and one autumn, one song and one tail, from one end to the next. It has fulfilled your obsession and also lived up to my intentions." Gu Jueshu said.
"My name is Gu Yanqiu, and you are Gu Jueshu. Yanqiu writes, and his heart turns to ashes. If one day, the jade cracks and the book disappears, how will Yanqiu live in the world, just mourning the wild geese, and ruining his life." Gu Yanqiu said.
"Perhaps by then, we will be a wisp of lonely souls, drifting back to nowhere. Inkstone autumn, the blue sky is poor and the yellow spring is falling. You will not let me down, and I will not let you down."
"Gu Jueshu, remember what you said. I'm afraid my heart is still the same as before, but your heart has long since changed.