A collection of short stories, basically several chapters with an independent story, and there may be some connections between several stories. Update occasionally, the output is small, meow, don't spray. Just practice your pen and don't spray.
You can move to my current updated work.
——————————"The Door Will Close"————————————
Time will always be as warm as yellow. They fell in love at first sight and were in love with each other. They made a lifelong commitment to each other and stayed together until they grew old. They gave birth to children and were in love with each other. They watched each other grow old. They will also be covered in dust, and the tombs on the hilltops will also be green with weeds. On his wooden tablet, in addition to writing his own name, he also wrote a line of meaningful words: Throughout the ages, this person has never worn a cassock.
And among the thousands of green mountains and the long flowing green water, there is still a wooden tablet standing in front of the tomb facing the wind. It is mottled and mottled. I don't know how old it is, but the writing on it is vaguely visible:
Tomb of Wu Daoxuan.
————————"Jiang Yue, Pipa Strings"————————
The dim candlelight began to melt, and the sudden building began to collapse. A river like a woman's arms shines with snow-white silver under the moonlight. That old lady is a prostitute from Chang'an. She is a romantic woman who sings. So I married that old black businessman. What a bad fate! I saw the big sedan chair being carried in the street, the zodiac lanterns were made of gold paper, incense smoke was lingering beside the flying clouds, and the fine music was playing with the lights and clothes. You are the wife of my Ming matchmaker, who saved your life and supported you for the rest of your life. It was her merchant husband who held her hand and came to disembark that month. You stay on this boat and watch the flowers, while I go to Fuliang to pick the tea. Watching the boat in the air sheds empty tears, and wandering around the river is cold every night. Jiang Yue, this pipa string is broken and comes back again. After a period of long and short love, the coming and going are determined. I have no choice but to leave and hate the day, fearing that I will lose my life by crying.
Concept: human story
