Long Memory of Flowers Falling

At dusk in winter, the afterglow of the setting sun slants down the quaint alley. There was a person leaning against the tree waiting for me. He must have been wearing a green robe, and seemed to have a white scarf around his neck. Little light yellow flowers were falling on him in the wind. So I hurriedly walked towards him, but for some reason, after walking for a long time, I could never reach him... A woman living in modern times often dreams about a dream from the Republic of China era.