Spring is as deep as the sea, with apricot blossoms and light rain. Inside the red walls, the scene is still the same as yesterday. The jade steps are covered with moss and the stone lions are mottled. Everything is silent, as if waiting for the past.
I walked gently in this vermilion, my steps were not disturbed by the dust, but my heart was already filled with ripples. Once upon a time, there was a dream of blooming flowers here - gold hairpins and jade pendants, embroidered clothes and skirts, and laughter. But now, it is just the remnant feathers of the old spring swallow nest in the mottled wall corner.
High above the red wall, crows crow like mourning. The wind blew through the corrugated roof, as if someone was whispering my old name. But I am no longer the woman I used to be, with eyes full of longing and only waiting for the affectionate look back once. I am just a person who has walked through the red wall, carrying the dust and dust of the years, gently dusting away the past like snow on my shoulders.
Time is like water, it cannot be turned back or hidden. I never came back, I was just passing through. When I woke up from the dream, I walked past the red wall, leaving only residual warmth in the world.
Purpose: Machiavellian strategy, love, destiny of family and country