Spring Is Gone and Flowers Are Still There

Her petite hand gently covered the writing on the silk and spoke word by word: Hello Jiangnan, The scenery is familiar to me. When the sun rises, the flowers on the river are as red as the fire, When spring comes, the river is as green as blue. Can you not remember Jiangnan? Can you not remember Jiangnan? But where is my Jiangnan? Where is my last harbor? . . . . . . . . . . "You pay! It's all you!" Before you could say any more words, tears welled up in your eyes like beads! They dripped onto the smudged silk. This was a birthday gift from the master. It was extremely precious, but it was destroyed in my own hands! I shouldn't be coveting the temporary envy of words, but now I am. . . .