In early winter, it’s cold and rainy, and I’m so full of thoughts that I can wring out the water.
Next to a charcoal fire, a pot of clear spring, brewing a cup of camellia, one person, a few people, a page of plain paper, and a dry pen, guarding the landscape.
This is the best time to miss you.
Looking in the direction of your heart, you can see the endless windless clouds and rain.
At the other end of the season, you are bathing in the warm sunshine of winter, and your moving smile still shines with the warmth of summer.
I give you a clear sky, praying that you can escape the wind, avoid the rain, go through this severe cold, and walk in the warm spring time.
Guarding you, like guarding the beautiful fairy tale that touched the soul the most in childhood.
Dreams will eventually wake up. That happiness has already been copied in life. You can turn it out and paste it on the calendar at any time, bind it into a book, put it on the bookshelf of life, and watch it carefully under the sunset. Read carefully.
There will definitely be a faint smile creeping onto the corners of the lips, and broken tears moistening the eyelashes.
A satisfaction, a sigh, left on the back cover...