Time is like a river flowing into the sea or a long scroll of history. The longer it is, the more things it stores. Time flies, there is no recovery, only as always buried. How long does the road ahead take to reach the destination? It seems that the ancients can't understand the topic. A word, a miss; a song, a memory. At night, it's dark as ink. What's lacking is a sense of security when it's gone. Don't understand, then forget. Looking up, the moonlight is clear over the earth. Moonlight like water, ink, tears like rain.

lying on the bed, Chu Xuan quietly gets up and comes to...