Before you know it, autumn has slipped through your fingers.

When the ripe ears of rice are cut, people's faces are filled with joy that they have not seen in a long time.

The sunflower fields withered and lifeless.

Sunflowers are herbaceous plants that are planted at the end of the year, bloom in February and March, April and May, and bloom in June and July.

In the past, the fragrance liked to nourish the sun flower field with demon power, and those flowers would bloom from the beginning of the year to Chinese New Year's Eve, and bloom all year round. And that field of sunflowers, which is full of sunflowers, is named Sunflower Field.

She is also known as the Lord of the Four Seasons of Flowers.

But he said that birth, old age, sickness and death are the laws of nature, and we must remember to understand what autumn is next autumn and tomorrow autumn.

He said, she listened.

The sunflower field has all year round.

Later, she had a home.

Afterward...

Later, everyone was gone, leaving the Lord of Flowers alone to face the empty house.

Empty, nothing left.

The reason why a home is called a home is because of the people. When people are gone, home is just a room.

Sigh lightly.

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This year's weather is much colder than usual.

It was obviously only Chinese New Year's Eve, but it was already time to walk on the ice.

Heavy snow and light snow are shining, adding a magnificent color to the entire Gensokyo.

The snow stopped, and the children ran on the ice giggling, not afraid of the pain caused by falling.

Pain? Which hurts the most?

A small figure stands outside the old Enoshima Tavern.

The dissipation of the sunset moon on Enoshima and the departure of Bai Mingqiu have been separated by many years.

There are many mountains and Lansi rocks that were originally sixtieth, and now more than half of them are rare. So much so that the original tavern has been forgotten and no one knows about it anymore.

Yes, since then, the Enoshima Tavern is gone, leaving only an old man who laments the impermanence of life in the middle of the night and grieves the loss of his friends one by one.

It was late at night, and there was no sound except for the sporadic sound of firecrackers.

The small figure came to the empty alley and stood in front of the house of Shanlan Temple.

The house was brightly lit, and laughter could be faintly heard.

After a long time, with a long sigh, she turned and left.

I don't even have the courage to go in.

She was afraid.

I'm afraid to see the kind Grandpa Yamalanji, I'm afraid that he will ask how he is doing, I'm afraid that he will ask where his father has gone, I'm afraid I'll see the fragility of feelings, I'm afraid I'll see the impermanence of life.

I'm even more afraid, thinking of my father.

Because she couldn't stop crying at the thought of his gentle smile.

There is no longer stubborn courage.

She has the courage to sweep his grave, the courage to accept her brother's departure, and the courage to want to see him every day even though she knows it's fake.

But she?

Nothing.

I don't have the courage to face my loved ones.

After that, I always sneered at her for being gutless, but who is the cowardless person?

Facing her with sneer, when she was speechless, the scars in her heart became more and more difficult to heal.

The snow was getting heavier and heavier, and the small figure walked the only way in it, leaving footprints that stretched far into the distance.

I remembered that my father was good at writing letters.

On the rice paper, his words are strict, the atmosphere is introverted, and he does not lose the freehand chic style of the book, and the supernatural spirit is completely changed, which can be called the best product in the world.

After marrying his mother, his father wrote a picture.

[The sound is hidden in the heart, burning, and its color is red; Aoi was born in the wild and died, and its name is autumn. 】

The names of four people are hidden in this post, and no one has touched them in the water stop so far.

This is the post she receives the most.

But she always writes crookedly.

The best writing is probably two words.

It's written "stupid".

Stupid, stupid.

Stupid Dad.

I miss you.

I want you back.

Come back and teach Xi to write.

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Today is winter.