Lingyun smiled at the peach blossom, and it took thirty years to get home. Since the spring breeze and spring rain, chaos has been drifting to the end of the world with the water.

Travel around Qian Shan and read about the prosperity of the world.

Peach and plum spring breeze, a glass of wine, ten years of night rain.

People are old. Looking back at the years, people who have heard birds singing together, waited for flowers to bloom together, and watched the full moon together may have left you long ago. And those who hold hands and look at each other's backs, like flowing promises, have become a pile of incomplete past events.

In this life, there are always some people who are the stones you must cast when crossing the river; It is the fuel you need to make tea; It is your street lamp for lighting at night. But these people will eventually become passers-by, and together with themselves, one day they will return their lives to the years. At that time, where will the lonely shadow be scattered?

Open a teahouse. In a place near the water, it is not ostentatious and noisy. Some are old, some are thin, business is deserted, and even forgotten. None of this matters. As long as there is such a guest, there is such a guest. In the lazy afternoon sunshine, drink a cup of tea until it is tasteless; It will be a song, which sounds without rhyme; Read a book without words; I have no intention of loving someone.

Everyone can't choose his hometown, whether he was born in Jiangnan with lush flowers and willows or grew up in Saibei with desolate vegetation, as early as last life. Fate has arranged a place to come and a place to return. Even if the place called hometown is not loved by the heart, it cannot change its real existence. We can choose to migrate, or we can choose to be forced into exile. All this has already been settled. Never, we are all passers-by, dust comes and goes, you go and I stay, that's all.