Qinhuai Ten Miles

As soon as I arrived in Nanjing, I went straight to the Qinhuai River. It was raining that day, and there was a slight coolness in the early autumn. I forgot to bring an umbrella, and I was completely immersed in the drizzle. The antique cornices of sulfur glass stood in front of me, and I could barely find a trace of ancient atmosphere. There are many shops along the street, and the retro buildings clearly bear traces of modern high-end imitations. Walking through the Gongyuan, I saw an arched bridge. On the bridge, a woman wore Hanfu and held an oil-paper umbrella. She was climbing up the stairs. She was wearing a white dark coat, a light blue underskirt, and a thin light blue veil around her waist. She stood at the end of the bridge. The breeze blew a strand of long hair on the side of her face, and her sleeves and veil were flying gently. I fell into a trance when I looked at it. I couldn't help but follow her slowly forward. Is she the spirit of the Qinhuai River?