He came back, braving the falling snow.
This is the first snow since the beginning of winter in Osaka.
I stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, watching his figure looming among the sparse branches of the snow-covered trees in the courtyard.
Snow falls on Tianshui, and the house is filled with the medicinal aroma of simmering chicken soup.
When he saw me, he stopped opening the door and stood in the snow, smiling stupidly at me.
For a moment, I felt like I was dreaming of a romance. In the dream, there were touching and lingering poems, rain and snow, tenderness and bitterness.
Luckily, I woke up.
Happy, even if things in this world are so wasted and his head turns white, he is still there, smiling slightly at me.
The words that speak to a gentleman are as warm as jade.