Preface
In the past life and this life, you come and go, but by the bridge, who picked up the tear-jerking bowl of Mengpo soup, and now who stirs up the memory of Fengchen, bringing this illusory dream into people's hearts.
All the deep feelings have been forgotten, and the only thing left is the sincerity of deep love.
The woodcutter cutting firewood at the foot of Wuzhi Mountain, the fisherman singing loudly by the Wanquan River, the bright blue shirt in the memory, the melodious flute sound, and the fluttering hem of the clothes, severely scratched that person's heart.
The person in my memory is simple and pure, like the bright moon in the sky, illuminating others but hiding himself.
Love, how difficult is it?
In this past life and this life, in and out of dreams, there is only one finger left to hold your hand.