Wrong Changhuan

Green bamboo, quiet lake, bamboo house, birdsong, breeze.

Zizai Valley, the same as in the old days.

There is no snow melting, but it is still surrounded by green mountains.

There are no new traces in the quiet path, and there is no more Jiangmeixiang.

Remnants of flowers hurt the ground, and the solstice of spring is bleak.

Old things accompany old shadows, and old memories accompany the sky forever.

Ye Mingzhu has love, and loves Liang Zhongzang.

The slanting moon is alone, raising her eyes to form a pair.

There is a whisper in my ear, I don't know it's a dream.

Whoever speaks wrong in the dream will be hurt when he wakes up.

Pain is a common meal, tears are like makeup at night.

Smiling in front of others is short, but sitting alone is long.

Knowing that he is deceiving himself, he prefers to be an idiot.

Chenyang hides in the clear sky, unbearably confused.

There is sadness in bitterness and hatred, but there is no response to shouting.

Always looking forward to Qing's arrival, accompanied by hesitation in my heart.

The quiet lake wrinkles with the wind, and keeps an empty house.

Day by day, the love of writing, the swan goose road is lost and forgotten.

There is no time to return, and he will be burned at the end of his life.

In the end, it will be divided into two places, and lovers will die.

On the second day after returning to Zizai Valley, Man Qiu came, bringing the killer and a letter behind him.

The letter was written by An Cuo himself, and it was very short.

It's as short as a few words: the fate is over, don't disturb each other.

Lin Changhuan read it for a long time.

This letter was like a knife piercing her chest, but it was also a tiger medicine that made her feel at ease before she died.

Lin Changhuan asked, is she... okay?

Man Qiu glanced at the person behind him, but didn't answer.The people who came with her are already urging her to go back.

Man Qiu said, the little bird that was rescued in the snow years ago, it...is still in a cage, I should bring it back to you...I'm sorry.

After saying this, Man Qiu left with the visitor.

After that day, Lin Changhuan's condition deteriorated rapidly.

Even if Yang Yan came the next day and Xie Baitang followed, there was nothing he could do.

Lin Changhuan opened the gift that Murong Ji had given her.It was a family of three carved in wood. The little girl stood in the middle, holding her father with one hand and her mother with the other.She looked at the wood carving, seemed to be lost in thought, and seemed to have a smile on her face, but she never spoke.

A month later, Lin Changhuan died, in Xie Baitang's arms.

It was an early spring morning with a warm sun and a gentle breeze, but in this world, there was no more Lin Changhuan, nor the girl named Lin Xiaonuan.

Her last words were only two words - worth it.Everyone was puzzled, only Yang Yan understood.

After all, Lin Changhuan did not wait for her to make a mistake.

In this world, there are too many people she misses, but she still leaves.

On the night before she left, she bid farewell to everyone in the valley one by one, told her what to do next, but also set fire to all the letters that had been written but had not been delivered in the past few days.

"Lin Changhuan Survived Burning Manuscripts [-]"

Mountains have clear springs, clouds and wind

Water has swimming fish, rain has rainbow

i chase

half lost

in a hurry

lucky to meet

know each other

Wrong, you are enough

"Lin Changhuan Survived the Burning of Manuscripts II"

reminisce

Garden and Light Revlon

Have fun with tea and wine

wake up like a dream

As dead as alive

The past is frozen

how lucky to have you

Zeng Dao, life and death are the same

Don't regret looking at Wannian

Don't regret the rain, snow and frost, all kinds of things.

Ah Cuo, even if there is no more Lin Changhuan in this world

Please also live well.

A few months later, there were rumors in Xiaoguan City that there was a white-haired woman in the valley near Digging Ridge, wearing white clothes, guarding a lonely grave, drinking, or whispering, and she never left every day for three years.

Three years later, someone discovered that a new tomb had quietly erected next to the original solitary tomb.

(end of book)

Thanks to my friends who have always supported me, thank you, and bless you, I hope love will always be with you.

I originally wrote a version, but I was still not satisfied, so I deleted it.The last and last is the version you see.

There are so many things that I want to write, but I don't know how to write for a while.All stories are not over.

Life is short for dozens of years, but the soul is immortal. That is the real me and the real us.

I once asked myself, if I were Lin Changhuan, would I be able to sacrifice for love.I think, I will.For parents, for lover, for relatives and friends, as long as it is the one I love.

Because I have embarked on the path of self-cultivation and mind-cultivation, if I have time, I may write one or two of the follow-up postscripts.Knowing that the ending should not be so hasty, I stubbornly believe that it is time.

Finally, thank you again for your company.I will continue to write~~I love you~refills~~

(End of the book)