Listen to the Wind in the Cold Rain

The fog was thick. On the arched bridge, the hunched-over old woman glanced at the end where she was lost in the fog. Her hand that was stirring a pot of hot soup paused. She looked at the young man in front of her and handed him another bowl of hot soup. "Sir, if you drink this bowl, it will be the eighteenth bowl!" An You smiled bitterly and took the bowl, "Thank you." The bowl bottomed out, "I'm sorry, Po Meng, I can't forget it." Po Meng shook her head and pointed to the four lines of words engraved on the bridge pier, "The road to the fire is full of people, the cause and effect of the past life and this life are scattered, I hope that my heart, my feelings, and my emotions will be sad, and the flowers and leaves will fall and I will never see you again." "Go ahead, young master, cross the Wangchuan River and obey fate." …