When I grew up, the wind was bitter and the mountains turned upside down.
Now that I have gone away, although the world is big and there is no branch to rely on, I will wait in my spare time, go with the flow, and reminisce about the beautiful world.
At the end of October, Yufeng returned home and crossed the winding road.
All I have, my pockets full, the flower on the screen.
Midsummer is gone, and the memory is still fresh, reminiscing about the beautiful world.
I still remember that the beauty is in my hand, wandering in the rain.
The mouth does not click but contains pill, and its soft hair is fluttering, which is unique in this scene.
The rose on my breast, the breast of a young girl, rested my head in it.
The hair is dead, the wine is old, reminiscing about the beautiful world.
I still remember that the beauty is in my hand, wandering in the rain.
The mouth does not click but contains pill, and its soft hair is fluttering, which is unique in this scene.
The rose on my breast, the breast of a young girl, rested my head in it.
The hair has withered, the wine is old, reminiscing about the beautiful, beautiful world.
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