In the sun, snow is falling.
The sound of melting, dripping and running water can be heard everywhere, dripping under the eaves of small streets.
Water, railing of stone arch bridge and bridge opening are dripping, and the stones of the river flow down by the river.
Snow seems to be oozing from cracks in the stone. Listen carefully, underwater sounds overlap, such as complaints.
Like weeping, it seems that the mysterious and distant silk and bamboo in the south of the Yangtze River are wrapped in all kinds of tenderness and curl up from the ground.
Spin it up. Such a sound can never be imitated by human musical instruments.