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In the ancient verses, the mist is dense, and the lounge bridge stands silently, guarding a beautiful dream.
Those stories that flow through it record the past spring.
Many past events have unfolded here, and in time, have been gradually forgotten.
While waiting, the tips of the hair stains with the fragrance of flowers and plants, and the soft scent is a gift from the south wind.
As the river flows through the stones, the heart has drifted away, the sun and eyes are shining in the waves,
The fragrance of tea wafts faintly, intertwining elegant thoughts.