"The tea is cold -" Fang Yingkan suddenly said, "Brother Cheng, let me go first. It's cold, so it's better not to stay too long."
When Wu Qing raised his head, he was already on the boat. The boat rowed slowly and leisurely, and the young man, dressed in pure white fox fur, chanted in a sweet voice: "I call out urgently for the first folding of the white snow plums, and I think about my youth and remember the smoke..."
On the table, beside the cold tea bowl, the plum blossoms were blooming just right.