"He's still in Lancang. He said he asked you to wait for his return - if you are willing to wait."
——Only such a short sentence.
There is no reason, no reason, just a simple explanation, that's all.
"I'll wait."
But Ziying answered very simply.
——Still unchanged? Even after a hundred years. Even though his black hair has turned into white snow, he is still the young man who knelt down without hesitation in the forbidden area and made a vow to the white clothes.
Such a solemn tone and serious expression made Zizhi think of what she saw under the bright fireworks in the Jimo sky when she was looking for Qian Mo's reincarnation. It was the young man with green hair who said "I will keep this promise to you for the rest of my life."
Now, he also made a promise to another person.
It's hard to say goodbye when we meet, the east wind is powerless and the flowers are withered. The spring silkworm's silk will not be used up until it dies, and the wax torch will not dry until it turns to ashes. The morning mirror is full of worry, but the clouds on the temples are changing, and the moonlight is cold when singing at night.
There is not much way to get to Pengshan, and the blue bird is diligent in visiting.
Conception: