every cloud has a silver lining

Many years later, Yal Hai Haru returned to this old village on the banks of the Qing River, but did not see the familiar pansies in her memory. The flowers that had once bloomed like butterflies had long since withered in the wind, never to be seen again. The wind was still a bit chilly blowing gently through the early spring field, the air had a sweet scent of plants, quietly looking at the distant play of Qing'er and Li'er, Ya'er Haiqing did not make a sound for a long time. Being held in his arms of the little Yier comfortably hiccuped, slightly moved his small body, found a more satisfactory position to continue to sleep, sleep surfaced innocent smile. Yale Haiqing smiled faintly, always cold and sharp face gradually surfaced a touch of intoxicating tenderness, even the tough corners of the lips also pursed into a soft line. Memory, however, goes back with the river of time to that bright and beautiful girl of many years ago.