兰陵/Lanling
就像这即将到来的春节一样，七年前的她又回到了这里。
这里仿佛一成不变，风雨无法侵蚀，始终散发深厚光泽。
公园里，放不飞风筝的孩子依旧在草地上嬉笑，那快乐未染丝毫尘埃。
雨过天晴后的阳光与归乡人，带来辞旧迎新的满城红与烟花。
他们在这里的步伐都一样缓慢，似乎都老了。
而在烟花过后，却很快的走出了这里。
Like the approaching Spring Festival, she had returned here after seven years.
Time seemed to have frozen this place—untouched by wind or rain, its essence preserved in a deep, enduring luster.
In the park, children whose kites refused to soar still laughed on the grass, their joy remaining untouched by the dust of time.
Sunlight after the rain and homebound travelers flooded the city with crimson hues and fireworks, symbolizing the farewell to the old and the welcoming of the new.
Here, they all moved with the same unhurried pace, as if aged by the weight of time itself.
Yet after the fireworks faded, they departed swiftly, leaving only echoes in their wake.
