The tears of a shooting star are flying

Author: Yan Qin
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2004-01-01
Features: It's terrifying, she doesn't want to recall what happened the day before yesterday. It would ache her heart. Every time she sees him, she feels a blush of unspoken shame, like a little girl in her first love. Her playful resistance stirs every nerve in his heart. She gently holds his hand—it's a turbulent ocean, a gentle stream, a clear and transparent connection of souls. It's the familiar street, the familiar house—everything is unchanged, except her heart. Fifteen years of marriage have come to an end. Five more years of solitary wandering have passed. Illness and hardship have once again allowed his warm, kind, and gentle hand to grasp hers, holding her heart that is desolate and lost. A sliver of yellow sunlight drifts through the curtains, so ethereal and intoxicating. It's a face that is honest and full of sunshine. He is kind, upright, talented, and handsome. He seems to be half-dreaming, half-awake, as a shadow drifts into the room. Before the bed, he leans forward, gazing at him. It's a person wrapped in black robes, with a black veil! Those deep, cold eyes seem familiar yet strange. And those thick, dense lashes. His heart trembles violently. As if, in the unseen, everything is destined. Who can defy the will of heaven? Justice, love is beauty, and beauty is love. Love is also harm, a burning flame of passion, a fierce flame that consumes itself and destroys others. His face is as white as a sheet, blood gurgling from his wrist wound, life so fleeting, so fragile. That black, extended "Lincoln" car seems like a black coffin.