I asked: Xia Xia, are you happy?
He put down the tea cup in his hand, looked at the figure that appeared in front of the courtyard, and smiled.
His face is reflected by the shadow of the grape trellis in my yard; the golden light shining from the ring finger of his left hand makes me unable to open my eyes; the antique gramophone plays an old record from my collection, and the footsteps behind me are getting closer and closer...
What was on the table was the meticulous orchid he had just completed. He picked up the seal on the side and took up the ink, and slowly stamped it on...
The dust has settled