(End)

On this day, the weather was gloomy, although there was no rain.

It's just that this autumn is bleak, on Qingyun Mountain, in Wangchen Temple, there are already dead leaves scattered all over the ground like butterflies.

A little Taoist priest in a silver-gray Taoist robe was lowering his head, holding a big broom, and was cleaning the fallen leaves all over the ground with some difficulty.

He followed the wind and walked around with the broom, but he didn't want to bump into someone because he was too focused.

The little Taoist was startled, and thought to himself, it must be the pilgrim who came to fulfill his wish, so he just lowered his face, said sorry hastily, and wanted to leave in a hurry, but unexpectedly, that person would catch him right there. wrist.

He had no choice but to look up at the man, dressed in red, with a folding fan, that familiar face was so beautiful.Looking at each other, the two of them stared at each other for a long time.

"Master Taoist, we... did we know each other before?" the man in red looked at the little Taoist thoughtfully and asked suspiciously.For some reason, looking at the extremely glamorous man in front of him, he felt a dull pain in his heart.

Hearing what he said, the little Taoist smiled and broke free from his restraint.

"The benefactor is joking..." The little Taoist bowed politely to the man in red, and then said calmly and calmly: "The poor Taoist Dharma name is Wangchen, and I have been watching the Qing Dynasty here since I was a child." Xiu, the word Hongchen, I have long forgotten..."

After finishing speaking, he just said "Farewell" and turned to go somewhere else, and since he was bored, he had no choice but to put it aside with an embarrassed smile, waved his fan, and left to go somewhere else. Here, we are like strangers, we will never know each other again... Slipper-Da Electronic Book Forum-Forum

The breeze swept the dead leaves all over the place, and they scattered in all directions, leaving only desolation...

Concluding remarks: In a flashy life, one season is forgotten, there are no memories, and the lingering is disturbed.Lovesickness disappears, lonely and lonely.Strings, missing years, those worlds of mortals, suddenly like a dream, like flowing water, gone and never returned, never weeping farewell, never complaining about the end...

【Finish】

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