It's too late for Changting. At the beginning of the shower, the doors are empty, the party is lingering, and the blue boat is urging. Holding hands and looking at each other, tears swirled in my eyes until there were no words at last, and a thousand words stuck in my throat and I couldn't say it. Thinking of returning to the south this time, this journey is another road. Thousands of miles away, it is misty, and the night sky is a vast night fog.
Emotional parting has existed since ancient times, and it is more comparable. It is also a cold autumn festival. Who knows where I am when I am awake tonight? Fear is just the edge, facing the sad morning wind and the setting sun of the waning moon. This is a long time, people who love each other are not together, and I even expect to be satisfied with the good weather and scenery in name only. There are many kinds of customs, who can say!