The beginning of the new year.
It's still cold time.
After a short reunion.
A year of hope for a new beginning.
It's not warm and cold. It seems to be a moment of silence.
The abundance and warmth of all things.
It's cold. 
It's fleshy in front of this window.
It also bursts with vigor.
Almost with a unique highlight moment.
It echoes the ice and snow world of the north.
Red, yellow, orange and pink are different from fat and thin.
The colors of life leap in.
Put the endless tension.
Introduce subtle changes in the change of seasons.
Seemingly messy branches.
It is the mark of time.
An experience that was once beyond words.
It has precipitated brilliance in time.
And that cute and stupid look.
It is also the wisdom of working with nature.
The tenacity of life, the cruelty of nature.
After an unknown number of rounds, they finally shook hands and made peace.
Wait for spring by the window.
When the cold is condensed.
Like clear frost.
Chu Chu is moving, like a hibiscus out of the water.
Muguang lies quietly and listens to the wind.
The afternoon light is warm.
Lazy and a little laid-back.
Ignorance is like awakening from a big dream.
A little clear. The unique elegance is as distant as plum.
Bright but not dazzling.
Warm as jade, intoxicating.
Stretch for three points. There is already a leap of the east wind.
Quietly tentative.
The rhythm of the sprout is like a willow.
Stillness and anticipation.
Achievement is the most beautiful thing to come.
Like a smiling face on the way home.
Reflecting the warmth of reunion.
Alternate and transform.
Converge into the joys and sorrows of the ebb and flow of the tide.
What remains unchanged is the beauty in the ordinary.
I wish Jiaping a long and happy New Year.
*: Summer end West Wind is slightly drunk.
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