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