That thin figure is Yuan Ke, and I will never admit that I am wrong, although I have not seen his appearance.

I read him countless times, I thought about him countless times, and at this moment, he finally appeared in front of me.

In my dreams, I called his name again and again, and when I saw the mountains and the water, my heart changed from full of joy to full of sadness.

Judge, don't laugh at me for being too stupid, why did I fall in love with an ethereal dreamer.

I don't know what to do, I go deep, there is a lot of life and death in this world, and I can't help it.

I've died for him once, but when I see him again, it's worth it.

The man in the dream was really in front of him.

His joy for me is real, and his expectations for me are real.

He said that he buried Zhengyuan wine under the pear blossom tree and invited me to drink it together, and he also said that there was a small pond in his palace, and he could see the seven bright moons at the same time.

I miss him so much.

Compared to Lingbi Huaijin, I am not a strong woman, and I have a lot of tears, and at this moment I looked at his back, and tears fell.

He stopped at a stall, and his beautiful slender fingers pinched a bracelet on the vermilion brocade cloth and looked at it intently.

The bracelet is not exquisite, but it is a little chic, it is difficult for the craftsman's exquisite thoughts, the silver is forged into the style of a begonia, the bracelet body still has the texture of branches and leaves, and two or three begonia flowers want to be put away.

He seemed to be intrigued, and looked back and forth for a long time.

From this angle, I could only see his vague side face, and I didn't dare to look closely.

The vendor was smiling, as if to persuade him to buy it.

He took a piece of silver from his sleeve and threw it on the stall, wrapped the bracelet in his sleeve, and turned around with the surprised look of the merchant.

The moment he turned, I took a step back and fled.

But as soon as he took two quick steps, he was held down on the shoulder.

Don't look back, I know it's him.

I didn't dare to turn back, I stayed where I was.

The hand seemed to tremble, and I could feel the coldness through my clothes.

"Xiao Biluo."

It is a tone of conviction.

He hasn't seen me, so how can he recognize me?

Before I had time to think about it, he had already walked up to me.

Before I could say anything, he took me by the hand and left.

It wasn't uncommon for young lovers to walk hand in hand on the street, and he took my hand, and my first reaction was that I should break free.

But I was reluctant to break free.

This is the person I like, the person who thinks about it for a long time, what reason can I refuse.

Through the bustling flow of people, he turned around, and I let him pull it.

His back is so beautiful.

The stones are like jade, and the pines are like emeralds. Lang Yan is unique, and there is no other in the world.

There is no better person in this world than him.

I squeezed his hand.

His figure paused, walked like a fairy, and did not stop, but squeezed my hand firmly.

His grip was so tight, the cold palm was already warm, and I was afraid that there would be a slight dampness in a few moments.

There are no pedestrians on this section of the reed embankment road, the reeds by the river are vast, the green is deep, and the smoke and willows are like power, covering the sky tightly.

It is common for literati and writers to praise the smoke and willows of Jiangling, and the wind and flocculence of the city, and to this day, I know that what he said is true.

Like this, flowers and plants are loved by people, life and death are as people wish, and no one complains.

He slowed down, gradually stopped, and did not look back.

I stopped, and there was nowhere to put this look.

After a long time, his slightly hoarse voice came from his ears, "Xiao Biluo." ”

I hummed softly, already crying.

He shouted softly again, "Xiao Biluo." ”

I said, "It's me."

He turned around, and I looked down, feeling very sad.

He wasn't there when I was most sad, and he didn't know when I was most sad.

How would he know?

And how can you let him know?

If a woman's joys and sorrows are conveyed to a man, then they are not far from drifting away.

He stretched out his hand, wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes with his slightly rough fingertips, and tried to remove my veil, but he stopped.

"Look up."

I'm crying so badly, how can I raise my head?

He hooked my chin and I looked up to see his face.

A plain face, but the eyes were shining with cold stars, and they stared at me deeply, as if they were sad and happy.

(Write again tomorrow)