Northern Song Dynasty. Kaifeng. Spring.
It's the time of spring. There are a lot of flowers and willows. The air is filled with a vague fragrance, and even the sunshine seems to be intoxicated in the spring breeze.
Looking at Kaifeng from a distance, you can see the gray walls, blue tiles, slightly outdated post roads, and the slightly weathered city towers. Everything is as it always was, still so simple, so ordinary. If we insist on saying that it is different from other places, it is that there is no cloud in the sky of Kaifeng. Anyone who has been to Kaifeng knows that as long as Kaifeng Mansion is there, the sky above Kaifeng will always be blue.
"What a blue sky."
On the outskirts of Kaifeng, a light sigh swayed out of a light figure. A man stands with his hands behind his back, dressed in white clothes, spotless. The breeze blew, and the unknown flowers on the branches swayed with the wind, and the white clothes danced gracefully in the fallen flowers. The falling flower man is independent, and the wisps fly together. Although the poem is wonderful, how can it describe the charm of this person. The sunlight fell on the white clothes, instantly losing their color.
A pair of people who always quarrel in peacetime will come together closely only in times of crisis, using their swords to hold up a sky for each other. You care about the other person but refuse to admit it, looking for all kinds of lame excuses. After crying, making trouble, and laughing, they finally came together, only to realize that they had been inseparable from each other.