Looking Through the Mirror

It had just rained, and there was a faint smell of mud in the air. The cool breeze blew over the weeping willows by the river, and the dew gathered on the tips, and fell into the river again, with a tick.He heard noisy people's voices squeezed into the room through the cracks - it was the melodious singing of the singer in the painting boat, it was the rivers and lakes in the dream that the old man with white eyebrows in the wine shop slapped Xingmu, it was the sound of wind, the sound of water, so far and so near.

In the silence, the young man coiled up the glass string that was originally wrapped around his wrist again, and the thin voice was like the pale sunlight passing through the thick clouds, slowly filling the room. He lowered his head slightly, with a handsome face, gentle eyebrows and eyes, The eyes seem to be reciting something silently, but occasionally lose their minds inadvertently.

Someone lightly plucked the strings, but it seemed that they didn't know how to do it, and the melody they played was a bit out of tune.The man didn't care about it, and played on his own.When it reached its peak, it stopped suddenly, and the sound of the cloth being rubbed was like the chirping of insects in a summer night, rustling into my ears.

In the huge room, it was quiet and noisy.

It occurred to him inexplicably that he might come closer and lean in to kiss himself.This idea is weird and deviant, like a person playing a lute by his side.

After a pause in his hands, he thought again, if that's the case...

Thinking of this, he opened his eyes.The young man in black was looking at him with his pipa in his arms, his eyes were playful, and he asked with great interest, guess, will I kiss you?

So he squinted his eyes and laughed, his pure and holy aura faded away, and in an instant, he was the eloquent student back then, and replied: Probably yes.

The next moment, the white-haired young man leaned forward slightly, turned his head slightly, and landed a kiss on the corner of the man's lips, as light as a feather.

The author has something to say:

Yu Taizi I'm sorry m (._.) m

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