Echarm Hotels in Hanzhong

We went for morning tea before the morning mist cleared. The porcelain bowl touched lightly, and steam climbed up the brows. Then hold hands and clasp knuckles together, like two leaves finding the same tremor on the branches. We were lying side by side on the chair when the wind came. It went through cotton and linen, blowing the temperature into thin wings, opening and closing. Your breath was on the left and mine on the right, and the wind weaved them into the same silk. I don't say what you hide in your eyes. I hide in your eyes, and you look. Then we walked through the rice fields, and the green waves squeezed the road into a narrow line. The lake suddenly lit up like the earth opened another eye. The hand did not loosen. We stood in front of the courtyard for a long time. The shadows hugged us first, and then you, and put your forehead on my shoulder. At that moment, your world was bundled into the size of a scorpion, just to install me. The evening tea is cooked by itself. The orange light comes in obliquely from the window, mixed with the fire, and can't tell which piece is the xia, which piece is the lamp. As the sun sank along the cup, we hugged each other on the porch. This time there was no wind, and the temperature permeated itself. Good night. You said. The middle of the day is a few good things they will come again, like wind, like rice waves, like when you wake up, the palm of your hand first finds me in consciousness.