绵密的雨线滴画出一个诗意悠然的江南。“有谁能知,你我再见已是生死无语”。他兀自喃喃细语,“你为什么要来?”他踏进帘内,屋内还燃着浓浓的檀香。他放下怀中的她,像往常一样铺开宣纸,一笔笔开始描绘她的模样。不经意间,一滴泪砸在青花瓷碗里,溅开一朵冷然落寞的牡丹花。帘外,雨点在阔大的芭蕉叶上攒聚成一颗晶莹剔透的水珠;帘内,雪白的墙上挂着一幅细腻的泼墨山水。思绪恍然还在昨日。他想起她忧愁的面容,那 Dense rain lines draw a poetic leisurely Jiangnan. “Who knows, you and I say goodbye to life and death speechless ”. He whispered, “Why do you come?” He stepped inside the curtain, burning thick sandalwood inside the house. He lowered her arms, spread the rice paper as usual, and began to depict her look. Inadvertently, a drop of tears in the blue and white porcelain bowl, splashed a cool lonely peony flowers. Outside the curtain, raindrops gathered in a broad banana leaves gathered into a crystal clear water droplets; curtain, white walls hanging a delicate ink landscape. Suddenly my thoughts yesterday. He remembered her sad face, that