The story develops step by step with the fortune-teller's playing cards. The violin, which was fused with the blood of his beloved wife by the luthier, has a graceful curve like a woman, but it is simple. After the vicissitudes of life, but the charm remains the same.
The red violin has gone through all kinds of hardships, being cherished, caressed, mutilated, spurned, the lacquer is worn away, and all kinds of scars remain. But in it, the three words "love you" left by the violin maker for his beloved wife still exude a warm atmosphere.
I have to admire life, because it is vigorous, prosperous, and has no end.
The essence of life is the essence of love. No matter how complicated the society is, no matter how sophisticated people are, and no matter how stubborn obstacles are, true love will be like a weed, sprouting in the cracks of rocks and flourishing after fire.
True love, small, hard to spot, hard to touch, but it's there, it's there.
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