When I went to my sister's house, she told me about my experience after my divorce.

I met my sister by chance, a few years older than me. The first time I met her was in an ambiguous coffee shop. The lights are deep and beautiful, accompanied by jazz music mixed with the taste of old Shanghai, and the fragrance of coffee beans makes people linger.

She was sitting in a chair in a small pavilion drinking coffee, and a group of dark blue lights just shone on her, emitting a cold and noble temperament. I looked at her every move diagonally, appreciated her as a beautiful picture, and guessed the story behind her beautiful face.

She came quietly and left quietly, leaving nothing to look for. I thought she was just a dream I had all night, but I didn't expect this misty sadness to appear clearly. A few days later, she appeared again in a purple tulle skirt. I began to think about how to meet her in a romantic scene.

She saw me because she smiled in my direction. I couldn't dodge and panicked. After pretending to be calm, I staggered to her side with a cup of cognac in my hand, and when I was ready to express my gratitude with the classic meeting method on TV, she actually said it to me first. Sit down. Anyway, it's good for me to chat alone. ?