At this time, hundreds of years have passed since Zhen Shuangliu and Que Cangjiang parted.
In the past, there was a couple who had been separated for ten years. They wrote the poem "Even if we meet again, we will not recognize each other, with dust on our faces and hair like frost" to express their grief.
Now, they have been separated by life and death for hundreds of years. One is depressed and heartbroken, living a life worse than death, and the other has turned to ashes. Now only a lonely ghost remains. They are no longer the young people with high spirits in the past. Time has left deep marks on them, and the changes are more than just the graying faces and white temples.
At this moment, Que Cangjiang could only use the wind to move the name of the person he loved, and gently typed out the two words engraved in his heart with his fingertips. But even so, Zhen Shuangliu still froze when he heard the call.
Que Cangjiang no longer had a living body, lost his throat that could laugh and sing, and even his body did not have the warmth of a living person. He looked like just a dark, blurry shadow - Bai Lian could make hundreds of scarecrows in a quarter of an hour, and each shadow cast on the wall in the sun was exactly the same as his. But Zhen Shuangliu could still recognize him at a glance, just by his shadow.
Login to comment
Be the first one to comment...