Beijing Wellcome Pharmaceuticals

Qingfeng, you are really like a wisp of breeze blowing by my eyes by chance. Maybe it's the green mountains and green waters, the singing of orioles and dancing birds, and the numerous flowers that attract you and make you stop for a short time.
I am a woman who does not eat the fireworks of the world and lives in seclusion in this purple world. My eyes are clear and calm, facing the world but not stained by the world. The hustle and bustle of the city, the feasting and the feasting, are foreign, distant and insignificant to me. A pen, a book, a cup of tea and listening to the mountains and flowing water are enough.
It is difficult to find good music and few close friends, so loneliness is unavoidable. It's so good to say whether Qingfeng's sadness is real or her tears are fake. I accidentally read "One Hundred Years of Solitude", originally thinking it was a poem, but I never thought it was actually a lyric written by Lin Xi. A hundred years ago, if there was no you and no me, how would the intersection between you and me come about? A hundred years from now, you and I will both be dead, leaving nothing but a cold tomb. And loneliness is real and always exists, no matter how time flies, the sea changes into a mulberry field. If Qingfeng really reincarnates, my loneliness will remain the same.
My longing is true. When you are busy and have no time to take care of me, my missing is like a wildly growing waterweed that quickly spreads and occupies the entire lake of my heart. Apart from murmuring your name, I am completely lost and confused. I have been stuck in the quagmire of longing and cannot extricate myself. I remember a little poem by Bing Xin that goes like this: Put on your fur/walk out of the house/look at the bright moon in the path/with dead branches on the snow/and write about lovesickness vertically and horizontally. It turns out that once the net of longing is cast, there is nowhere to escape.
Qingfeng, will you still miss me? Is your longing also true? The wind is free and can go east or west as it pleases. Maybe you have quietly left when I close my eyes and open them again. Dependent origination and cessation are beyond my control. So my sorrow is real. The happiness you gave me was too short-lived. Those little happiness has gone with you, leaving me sitting in loneliness for a hundred years.