"There is no need to chase the long green mountains, and nothing better than returning to the acquaintance is the return of an old friend.
Thousands of flowers and trees bloom on a windy and moonlit night, but only the gentle sound will always accompany them. "
The ancient poems are sung from the same old mouth, carrying the coolness of the night in the mountains, drifting to the unknown distance.
The starry night was twinkling. Jiang Zhimo quietly opened the window a crack, and a wisp of late summer evening wind curled around her slender fingertips and flew away with the wind, just like her nostalgia. She couldn't see or touch it, but even if she could know it, she could definitely feel the resonance of the ups and downs of her heartbeat and her breathing. Listen carefully, and the voice in your mind becomes clearer.
"Jiang Zhimo, I like you."
The warm wind that had been blowing gently seemed to change its direction and wrap around her body, giving her the last bit of warmth in the world, as if she was by his side.
Purpose: The story at the foot of Qingcheng Mountain will tell us the power of life