I ran out of inspiration, so I wrote a short story.
Copywriting:
He is a dignified prince of a noble family, cool and self-possessed, self-denial and etiquette. He has only one close friend in his life, who treats him with sincerity and sincerity.
She was the new wife of his best friend. She was as gentle and bright as a begonia on a branch. She should have kept him at a distance, but instead he was frightened by her sight.
Not long after, fate struck a chord and his best friend died suddenly.
The night rain knocked on the window, and she knelt in front of the Buddha holding the memorial tablet of her deceased husband. Her black hair was scattered and her tears were still wet. He stood holding an umbrella, half of his face covered by the shadow under the eaves, and his voice was low and hoarse: "Sister-in-law, my condolences."
But later, as the incense in the Buddhist hall filled the air, he grabbed her wrist and said, "Sister-in-law, if he is still here... I will not let go."
#The friendship between gentlemen ends with propriety; love ends with righteousness. #
Intention: None yet
