In the morning, it's cloudy outside. It began to rain in this small town.

I think of a humanities program I've seen about panyuliang. A melancholy female painter who once studied in Europe and achieved great success. But at first, she was displaced for livelihood and love.

One's own life always needs to be managed by oneself, including love. Losing one's own way, or relying on, or being arranged, is actually a distortion, losing the original intention of life.

Then I saw the graphics on the picture book. It's two gourds. Crystal round, unique fragrance color; The branches are light and blooming. Then there is a passage about gourd:

Gourd, homonymous with fortune, means good luck; And because of many results, it is regarded as a mascot with many children and grandchildren; Because it can be used to store wine, it just symbolizes long-term happiness.

The middle-aged man in "the passing of spring" said to the person he liked that I was a Muggle and didn't know how to talk. Lonely, warm, like is in the heart, carefully guarding. Nothing lasts longer than liking, and nothing is more precious than knowing.

In an early hour, I thought of panyuliang and the meaning of a painting. Whether love is self-sustaining and independent, and whether the results are beautiful and accumulated. Thinking of these, I suddenly feel that my heart is like a container full of water.

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