I am the main writer of the story and also a witness of the story. More than ten years have passed, and I am already a little vague about Yuan Qian's appearance. Perhaps, as she said, I will forget her sooner or later.
I'm not good at drawing. For more than ten years after she left, I never drew a single picture of her, and she never fell asleep. She only occasionally jumped out of my mind when I was about to fall asleep, bringing back memories of the past in my mind.
The cold weather is coming in Mengdong, and the north wind is so miserable. There is so much sorrow that the night is long, and I look up to the audience of stars.
The bright moon is full on the third and fifth days, and the toads and rabbits are missing on the fourth and fifth days. A guest came from afar and left me a letter.
The upper part is about longing for lovesickness, the lower part is about long separation. Put the book in your sleeve, and the word "three years old" will never die.
She said she loved this poem very much, but I always thought it was too sad. Her unhappy look cost me some money and connections to get her forgiveness.
My story with her is just plain and lackluster. She is not a very smart person, nor does she have the beauty to conquer the country. She has a peaceful and stubborn temperament. She and I knew her ending from the beginning, but neither of us could bear to say it, and neither of us could bear to say that we didn't believe it.
The story that no one has read needs to be told, so that everyone will know that she once came to this world full of hope.
A thousand yuan, a thousand yuan, just a shallow relationship.
Intention: Live well, even if it is meaningless