The smoke of the years is slowly dissipating at this moment, entwined with the delicate and uneasy love, and tying the fate tightly. The strings of the guzheng break and fall, and the lovesickness is vast. "There are no obstacles that cannot be overcome, right?" His gentle words still fell by his ears, like the lingering breeze of March, falling to his heart, "As long as you are still willing, it can still be beautiful again. Even if the illusion of vanity is shattered, what remains in the heart is the incipient throbbing that is difficult to calm down." Even if the road is far away in the future, what will be guarded are two hearts that rely closely on each other.
I saw him again, under the swaying willow catkins and the dazzling waves of clouds and clouds. He was dressed in white, as if in a dream. With the warm wind of March, his clothes were swaying, showing his usual light smile, and he looked at me leisurely. At this moment, the Qiang flute was caressing the willow trees. His eyes were smiling and his thin lips were slightly parted: "Weier, look, how beautiful these flowers are in bloom."
I don't know when my years have been lonely, but they seem to be left behind.
A feast for two people, in the end, turned out to be just one person's performance.