On the riverside at night, the bright moon shines high in the sky. A pure white cloud, like a leisurely sheep, drifts slowly into the distance. In Qingfengpu, green maples grow thickly on both banks, and their leaves sway gently in the breeze. A wandering man in a blue shirt stands by the river, looking in the direction where the white cloud is disappearing, his eyes full of sorrow. His figure, against the backdrop of the green maples, seems lonely and desolate. The river flows slowly, making a low sobbing sound, as if it is also sighing for the wandering man’s sorrow. Although the scenery in Qingfengpu is beautiful, it is full of the sadness of parting in the eyes of the wandering man.