When Spring Fades, Life Begins

The first time she fell into a river, she transmigrated. The second time, she was reborn. The third time, when those warm hands reached out to her without a second thought, at last the snow in her heart began to melt. She had once cast aside all her reservations and loved someone, but her hands, as delicate as green plums, could only pluck a soft, low note from the strings. They could not stir his guarded heart. In the end, she too became a cold and indifferent person. After years of wandering, the red plum blossoms fell and spring returned. Only one person, having weathered countless storms, remained where he was, never having gone far.