If only life could be like the first time we met

     If only life could be as beautiful as our first meeting.

    Upon first encountering Nalan, the name itself is like a secluded orchid in a valley. Beyond the initial amazement, a breathtakingly beautiful scene unfolds. What kind of extraordinary talent could be worthy of such a refined name?

    Although Nalan's real name should be Xingde, the mere mention of "Rongruo" evokes a natural elegance and grace that is unforgettable.

    Nalan Rongruo, a solitary figure wandering the world, left behind countless breathtaking glimpses of brilliance. Yet, he remains only a fleeting glimpse in history. Only the elegant demeanor of this talented scholar remains vividly before our eyes.

    Nalan is like smoke. Three hundred years ago, it was he who shaped the landscape of Qing Dynasty poetry. But in the blink of an eye, he vanished into the mists of history. In just thirty-one years, Nalan traversed the infinite possibilities of his life, leaving behind only an enigmatic smile for posterity.

    He came quietly, left hastily, time always seemed to be left behind him, and the world could only see his helpless back. Enchanted by moonlight and flowers, Nalan seems like just a fringe figure in literary history. But who can traverse history, traverse the moment of his departure?

    The Qing Dynasty was a kingdom on horseback. Iron cavalry and curved swords, yet Nalan portrayed them with exquisite beauty and allure. In the deep mountains, wisps of smoke—that is Rongruo's lifelong pride and independence, his robes fluttering.

    Like smoke, Nalan was always a lonely figure. Scattered by the wind, disheveled by the rain, merely a beautiful fragment of history. Like the last emperor Li Yu, whom he most admired, he too was filled with sorrow and lament. Two lonely figures, in the gaps of a thousand years of history, finally intertwined. Compared to Li Yu, Nalan seems easily forgotten. He had no national or personal grievances, no sense of the changing times. Deeply favored by heaven, he simply became a lucky figure among the Manchu nobility.

    But history ultimately remembers Nalan. Because he was Nalan, the poet, whom the renowned scholar Wang Guowei called "the only one since the Northern Song Dynasty."

    Nalan's poems, like his beloved lotus, are clear and soft as water, yet shrouded in an indescribable melancholy. The depth of his emotions and the intensity of his feelings would put many纨绔 (spoiled rich kids) to shame. All the separations and deaths in Nalan's writing are as gentle as flowing water. Yet, this gentleness is always permeated with a profound and unforgettable sorrow. Born into a Manchu noble family, Nalan always maintained his initial tranquility. He saw and experienced far too much of the intrigue and power struggles of officialdom. Intelligent as he was, he learned to entrust all his emotions to poetry. Poetry is all of Nalan's heartache and lamentation.

    Rongruo (Nalan's courtesy name) seems to have always been lamenting. Lamenting the world, lamenting separation, lamenting life and death.

    Nalan's poems are filled with too much remembrance, too much deep longing.

    "The moon in the sky is most pitiful, one night it's a full circle, every night it becomes a broken jade." "Who pities the thin, weary Dongyang, also languid in spring? Not as beautiful as the lotus, its quiet affection deep even in the cold." "The candle flame flickers, chilling the thin quilt as I'm about to wake. I try not to think of you, but I can't bear to sleep alone, my heart breaking." Nalan's poems are all about "love." Perhaps, as he himself said, "Love seems eternally indifferent, parting words are regretted." Love at its deepest point seems indifferent, feeling diluted.

    Nalan's love is profound, Nalan's love is profound.

    However, regardless of the nature of this love, Nalan is ultimately the Nalan of the Green Water Pavilion, like smoke.

    "If life were only as beautiful as our first meeting, why would the autumn wind bring sorrow to the painted fan? So easily the heart of a loved one changes, yet they say it's the heart of the loved one that's fickle. After the words at Lishan, half the clear night has passed, tears fall like rain, the bells ring, yet there is no resentment. How can a heartless, richly dressed man compare to the vows of being like paired birds and intertwined branches of the past?" Even

    though hearts are fickle, if we return to the moment of first meeting, Nalan Rongruo remains as beautiful as a secluded orchid in a deep valley.

    Everything is just like that first meeting…