The best meeting is when you walk through the ice and snow and shake off your youth. Chun Qing is behind you, smiling and lighting up the surrounding wind, and the drizzle is in front of the flowers.
The best meeting, the dormant time, the waiting time, the immersion of wind and frost, the confusion of secular interests, the expectation floating on the water, and the elegant demeanor.
Who is holding an oil-paper umbrella, crossing the sentimental rainy season, stepping on the waterfront of time and diving into the long rain lane in search of an old dream falling into the world of mortals?
Who is riding a boat, breaking the cool moonlight, clearing the frosty days like water, and salvaging a disappointing time in the fleeting years of China?
The fragrance of the soul is a life-long poem; Meeting the world of mortals is a hard-earned expectation.