Xinghua River

The apricot blossoms by the river bloom and fade, and they remain entangled in this land year after year. She loved silently, like a pebble at the bottom of a river, washed away by the current but never making a sound; he loved fiercely, like the midsummer sun, which made people ache but had nowhere to hide; and she loved paranoidly, like the thorns on the shore, the more they clenched, the more blood dripped with blood. When the truth surfaced with the dead fish, the old vows became the sharpest knife. Some people want to atone for their sins, some want revenge, and some are keeping rotten secrets and refusing to let go. This love and hate is deeper than the river water, more pungent than the smell of fish, and more heartbreaking than the apricot blossoms on the river bank.