In the twelfth lunar month of that year, when the plum blossoms were in full bloom, he folded a plum blossom in the plum garden, took off one and put it in my ear, and gently brushed away the snow that fell on my shoulders, with tenderness in his eyes.
"The plum blossoms are beautiful, but they are nowhere near as good as yours."
I lowered my head and smiled, saying nothing.
Probably from that day on, I indulged in his gentleness.
Time flies, ten years pass by in our laughter, I am sure that we are in love.
But is falling in love with him a blessing or a curse?
In the deep palace courtyard, with green tiles and red walls, the willows outside the walls are destined to wither in the palace.
Year after year, day after day, the sun and the moon gradually dissipate, not just the years.
Intention: Both places are nowhere to be seen
