Quick Wear: The paranoid beauty grabs the waist and spoils her

The green mountains are as dark as ink, and the emerald green spreads out like ink. In the middle is an elegant courtyard.

In the courtyard, there stands a tall ginkgo tree, with layers of golden ginkgo leaves surrounding the front of the courtyard tightly, yet exuding a free and unrestrained charm.

However, if you look closely, you will find that although this ginkgo tree is beautiful, it has lost its vitality, just like an old man who has long passed away. The glorious past only remains in the memory, and at this moment only the golden leaves are glowing in the autumn sun.

With a creaky sound, the door of the courtyard house slowly opened.

I saw a young man in white pushing a woman in yellow to the ginkgo tree.

The young man in white has an extremely outstanding appearance, his eyebrows are like dark green mountains, his eyes are like the bright moon, and his long hair is casually scattered. It is not pure black color, but a mixture of black and white, like flowing clouds, with a decadent beauty.

The most eye-catching thing is the bright cinnabar mole between his eyebrows, which looks like a solidified blood bead, adding a bit of charm to his cold and jade-like face.

He exudes a cool and holy temperament, but when his deep and dark eyes look at the woman in yellow, his gentleness is mixed with a hint of elusive stickiness. The two temperaments are contradictory yet harmoniously blended together.

A ginkgo leaf gently fell from the tree and landed on the shoulder of the woman in yellow, but she was unaware and had no reaction at all.

She sat quietly in a wooden wheelchair with her eyes closed, like a sleeping fairy.

That hibiscus face was so otherworldly and beautiful that it didn't look like a real person, as if it would disappear with the sun at any time.

Her face was as pale as paper, her lips were light in color, and she looked like she had been ill for a long time, or rather, it seemed more like she had passed away for a long time, but was forced to stay in this world, unable to enter the cycle of reincarnation.

The young man in white smiled gently, brushed away the ginkgo leaf with his fingers, and gently stroked the woman's face with his fingertips:

"Look, the ginkgo has turned yellow again."

The woman in the wheelchair still had her eyes closed and did not give any response to the young man. There was only the rustling sound of the wind blowing through the ginkgo trees.

The young man was no longer surprised by this kind of situation. He still had a gentle smile on his face. He stretched out his fingers to gently tidy up the woman's messy hair that was blown by the wind. His eyes were gentle but seemed to be covered with light.

"Anan, you said you would come back next autumn when the ginkgo trees turn yellow..."

His voice was very soft. "But autumn comes with the year, and the ginkgo trees are turning yellow, but you broke your promise."

The young man's eyelashes trembled slightly, and his eye circles began to turn red. His eyes were still gentle, but they were broken and cold. He stared at the woman who seemed to be asleep. He felt wronged but felt cold for no reason. He smiled softly again and said,

"fraud."

The words disappeared in the wind for a long time. The young man looked up at the sky, his long black and white hair hanging down on his shoulders, and the crumbling golden leaves on the ginkgo branches were reflected in his eyes.

His eyes swept across the woman's serene face, and his voice was hoarse as if it was wrapped in crushed ice:

"The south wind blows, and the Xiang River is at peace. During the summer and winter, people are happy."

The only response he received was the rustling of the falling ginkgo leaves, like a never-ending rain of broken gold.

A red-red xun slipped out of the young man's sleeve. The dark red glaze was glowing with a faint light, like solidified blood and tears.

He lowered his eyes and placed the xiao against his lips. His pale fingers trembled lightly between the sound holes. A sobbing melody flowed out from the xiao's mouth, mixed with the sound of the wind and entangled among the ginkgo branches.

When the song ended, the sound of the xun faded into the twilight.

The young man took the xiao into his arms. As he leaned forward, the silver hair became more obvious. His lips gently touched the woman's cold forehead, and his voice was so low that it was almost a whisper:

"Little liar, I regret it."

The second half of the sentence was choked by sobs - I regret not being able to keep you, and I regret turning this oath into a monologue that will never be responded to.

Without waiting for any answer, the young man put his arms around the woman's slender waist and gently lifted her up.

The wheelchair remained alone, casting a lonely shadow in the sunset.

His back as he held the woman gradually blended into the twilight, and every step seemed to be stepping on the folds of time.

In the days that followed, the sun rose and the moon set, repeating itself over and over again.

Every day the young man would push the girl to the ginkgo tree, watch the morning dew condense into teardrops on the leaves, and wait for the setting sun to stretch their shadows into long and slender ones.

The same tune, the same expectation, as it is played day after day, gradually becomes tinged with the frosty color of time.

In the distance, green mountains are hanging low with flowing clouds, and green water flows over the moss-covered stone steps.

This secluded courtyard is wrapped in misty green fog, like a faded ink painting.

The ginkgo tree in the corner of the courtyard has long been taller than the black tiles. The fan-shaped leaves hanging between the branches are like yellowed poetry papers, with dry lines hidden in every wrinkle.

When the wind blows, the leaves rustle, as if someone is sighing softly, or like unfinished love words, shattered in the mottled shadows of the sun, and scattered in the depths of time that no one knows.