It's Cold and People Haven't Woken up Yet

When I received the urgent letter from Sanbei envoy in May, I was looking at the moon in the courtyard. It has been many years since the Mid-Autumn Festival. The moonlight has not been so good. It is as round and clean as a silver plate hanging in the orchid sky. The floating clouds are faint and the night is dark. The letter was very simple, with just a few strokes. After reading it, she turned around and leaned against the jade railing. The intricately carved picture of the Eight Immortals celebrating their birthdays felt cold to the touch. The handsome man with thick eyebrows behind her approached and took the letter from her hand, but remained silent for a long time. In the deep sky, the hazy moonlight, the fleeting brilliance of time floats dimly, the people we have met now slowly disappear, and those sad or happy things that have happened have also come to an end. She often...