An acre of flower fields, brewing a pot of moonlight wine, opening this book, every story is the green lost in time.
The years are most silent, but the days are traced by one's own life. The sorrow, joy, honor and disgrace, anger and madness will eventually turn into passing smoke and clouds, wrapped in green. Every word that falls is a gentle journey.
Not all stories will reach the last few lines, not all stories will have sparkling endings, and not all people and things will be fleeting. Eternal, hot, and regretless, time will give you the best answer.
Open this book, the sun and the moon are long, and the stars and rivers are safe.
Intention: To express one's own spirit, the type is uncertain