The visitors in green shirts and misty rain seem to be old friends. The ancient alleys are deep, the stone roads are long, and the traces of time are poetic and picturesque, waiting for a thousand-year encounter. On the streets of the mortal world, flowers bloom for a season, and the gentle breeze and drizzle moisten whose dreams and wet whose hearts? A curtain of dreams, a smile of peace, watching the passing years quietly, looking at the passing years without a trace. In the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, ink paintings, bluestone alleys, under oil-paper umbrellas, who is singing softly, a song of mourning, intoxicating the world of people, and also intoxicating myself. Under the moonlight, in front of the flowers, drinking alone without any blind date, raising a glass to invite the bright moon, facing each other as three people. In this situation, I just wish that the time will be quiet and good, and I can talk to you; the years will flow slowly, and I will be with you; and the prosperity will fade away, and I will grow old with you. The glazed lights reflect the ancient charm of thousands of years. Dressed in white, it beats the snow. Walking among the ancient bridges and flowing water, looking for the poems left in the wind. Each sentence is a whisper from the past life.
Concept: costume love