金锁记

Thirty years ago in Shanghai, on a night with the moon… We may not have had the chance to see the moon thirty years ago. To the young, the moon thirty years ago must have been a large, red and yellow, damp haze, like a drop of tear falling on a cloudy piece of paper, old and hazy. To the elderly, the moon thirty years ago in their memories was joyful, larger, rounder, and whiter than the moon before their eyes; however, looking back over the hardships of thirty years, even the best moonlight cannot help but be a bit melancholy.