After returning to Qixinzhai, Yuechen looked at the painting, thinking about the illusion of the past few days, and couldn't help but feel sad, so he drank a few more glasses and fell asleep. At this time, a warm wind blew from nowhere, skipping the inner courtyard and heading straight into the inner room, knocking over the painting tube on the desk. "Is it you? Yue Li, oh. No, Mingyue..."
Intention: