When Will the Bright Moon Shine on My Return?

It was raining again. The mountains were hazy, the waters stretched into the mist, and everything looked like a dream, like a fairyland.

Whenever it rained, writers and poets grew excited and arranged outings, taking boats out onto West Lake.

My father had worked as a boatman in this area for over twenty years, and I usually went out on the boat with him.

Today, we had a guest with an exceptionally distinguished air.

…

(P.S. There are other stories available by subscription on the author’s profile!~)

Theme: Follow your heart and live freely