C61 Yakichi and Octavo Tea

Everyone looked at each other: so fast?

Kang Yushuang closed his eyes and pondered for a moment. He licked the ink from the brush in his hand and wrote on the whiteboard as if it was flowing water.

A small poem leaped up onto the paper.

The thread in the mother's hand, the wanderer's clothes.

As they left, they did not want to be late