"Zheng'er, I'm back."
It's the familiar eyebrows, and the kite gently touches the person's face, from the forehead to the chin, from the bridge of the nose to the ears. He had some green stubble, which made his hands itch slightly, but Yuan Zheng's eyes turned red. Only then did she realize that this man was really back and would never leave again.
The passion of the red candle turns into tears, and the long night destroys her.
The kites and zithers are crossing south, and the rivers and seas are clear.
Ten miles of smoke, a curtain of old dreams.