(a)

When Jing Rong stepped into the side courtyard again, it seemed like years. There are also string bells hanging on the window, jingling in the wind.

He opened the dresser, and a phoenix hairpin lay alone in it, not staining a little dust. He picked up the phoenix hairpin, the bottom of the box was covered with white paper and black ink, he looked at it one by one, and when he turned his eyes, the paper was full of him. Stop, move, think. I have exhausted my pen and ink, but I have not finished it.

Jing Rong sat in the chair as if he had lost all his strength, covering his eyes, Su Qinghui's hands were bloodied in the dark, his eyes were full of despair, and he was dragged into the dark abyss.

The phoenix hairpin is soaked with wetness, it turns out that you have been struggling for so long in this deserted city where there is no cause and effect. It turns out that this is the best revenge you can get on me for what I think is good for you.

(b)

When Xu Juan opened his eyes, it was pouring rain outside, and it was obviously daytime, but the sky seemed to be splashed with ink. Thunder flashed outside the window. In the memory, the girl's eyebrows and eyes were smart, and her tone was gentle and slow, and she gently clicked on her heart.

"Do you eat?" "Thank you, girl" "Nothing, nothing." ”

"Sixth princess, if you want to find someone to talk to, call me to do it, anyway, I talk a lot, and I will not be bored." "Okay."

"That book is going to make you turn bald, why don't you look at my book." "What a book." "Script." "That's not a book." "Tsk, prejudice."

"You hold on again, take it, this is the medicine I prepared for you, remember that I have to take it on time when I don't come, do you hear?" "Listen, hear."

"It's worthy of being a mother, but I waved my hand outside the window back then, and I didn't see your mother take a look, isn't it, little rabbit."

"Su'er, is it okay to go home with me" "Each of you told me to go home, I don't even know who I am, how to go home." ”

The sound of rain smashed on the window, one by one, like a line connecting to the heart, tearing people to the pain.

(c)

"Mother, who is this person?"

Xu Juan stopped his pen and picked up Ah Hao, his voice was as gentle as water: "This person is my mother's closest relative." ”

"She's so good-looking, Ah Hao likes her. Mother, when will Ah Hao see her? ”

In the painting, the man stands sideways by the bridge, holding half a fruit in his hand, and his eyebrows and eyes are crooked with a smile.

"Really?" A gust of wind blew, rolling up half of the paper. She must have been very happy to hear that.

"Mother, are you crying?"

"No, my mother just remembered a story."

"What's the story?"

"One, the story of longing for home."