"After the dream, the loft is locked high; when the wine wakes, the curtains hang low. Last year's spring sorrow returns, the falling flowers stand apart, gentle rain with swallows flying in pairs."
Unexpectedly, as soon as he finished reciting the first half, the feisty young woman behind him unceremoniously interrupted, "What nonsense is this, spring sorrow? I'm more of a spring resentment, are you missing a woman?"
The man paused, not turning around, simply smilingly admitted, "Yes."
Then he continued reciting the second half, but just then, the woman angrily pulled out a purple jujube spirit fruit from her bosom, and with a thud, threw it at the man's head.
The man cried out in pain, clutching his rear scalp as he turned around, feigning anger, "Who threw that?"
The woman laughed until her eyes squinted, revealing two shallow dimples on her cheeks, boldly said, "I threw it, aim it right at you silly goose!"
