I dragged him and stood in Liangyuan, looking up at the magnolia trees in full bloom.
Through the mottled light spots, in the middle of the branches, I saw the rolled up yellow edges.
A piece of paper. A poem. A memory.
"At dusk in Liang Garden, crows fly everywhere, and only three or two families are desolate. The trees in the garden don't know where people are gone, but when spring comes, old flowers still bloom."
He held my hand tightly, "Mu'er, we will never be separated again. No."
"Well, we want to be together forever."
Because as you said, you will grow old with your son.