Floating Thoughts
by Mi Ke
About This Novel
Drinking a handful of dendrobium wine, leaning alone in the empty pavilion, the wine is gone, and no one is drunk, but tears flow; playing a song of mourning, reclining on a weeping willow, the song is scattered, and no one wakes up, feeling sad about separation. Even if you drink a thousand cups and the shengxiao is broken, how can you live with fireworks for three years and worry for the rest of your life? I think about it in my heart.
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