Some people are destined not to belong to themselves, and some things are destined to be irreversible. Just like the wine that has been warmed in a cup, it has been blown cold by the wind, and has become cold by the kiss of snow. No matter how much you try to warm it with the palm of your hand, it will never return to its previous temperature.
It's snowing lightly in Huashan Mountain, and the wine around my waist is slightly cold.