Qing Ping Le: Spring
The crabapples bloom,
A soft east wind brushes my face.
From beneath the leaves, young orioles' songs grow faint,
Yet they say spring's departure is still far off.
This spring, I have no desire to climb the tower;
A faint frown, a fleeting smile, and no reason why.
I still remember that year beneath the flowers,
Two lines of fresh sorrow on a letter of fine paper.
A collection of old works. Though what I think and feel now is completely different from back then, it's still one way of looking at things, isn't it? Hehe.
A record from when I was young and wild.
All are short stories, some of them in a series.
They're all set in fictionalized ancient times, mostly tales of the martial world. Of course, there are exceptions.
If you're interested, come have a look. ^_^
I still like these stories a lot. Their pulse may be a little taut, but... I really did put my heart into writing them~~
Theme:
I have read almost all of the author's articles, and I even cried for a few of the stories in the collection😭
So, she put it down and he picked it up again?
Another new post~~Congratulations