In the frost of the 23rd year of Jian'an, when Su Heqing was sorting out the fragments of the "Qin Jing" in the library, he found half a piece of plain silk sandwiched between the pages. The color of the ink has faded, but you can still make out two lines in regular script: "The crane's shadow crosses the cold pond, and returns to the dust to be stained by the frost." The inscription is the word "Return to the Dust", and her familiar tenderness is hidden in the edge of the pen.
The red plum blossoms outside the window were in full bloom, and she suddenly remembered the boy who walked into the academy holding a green bamboo umbrella on a snowy night seven years ago. There was fine snow falling on the hem of his clothes, and her panicked reflection reflected in his eyes, which became the frost in her eyes that could no longer be melted away.
Intention: Love is never an appendage of fate, but the courage to burn in the frosty moon even though you know it will be extinguished; it is the persistence that even if there is only half a poem left, it will be polished into ink for the rest of your life, so that every word is soaked with longing; it is your return to dust, I Zhaochen, from then on in my years, every piece of snow is the umbrella you have held, every plum blossom is the lips you kissed, and all the unspoken "My heart is happy for you" become a poem that will never fade between heaven and earth at the moment when the crane sings through the clouds.
