Autumn Moon and Cold Flute

About This Novel

In the cold autumn, a slight coolness enters the window, a faint mist and rain, and a faint thought. After passing through the wasted years, I can't escape the homesickness of a thousand dreams a night, and the lingering thoughts in and out of dreams. Slightly cool, gradually cold. Half of the sycamore trees have already known autumn, and the fallen love words are slightly sweet, gradually entering the sultry scenery of the night.

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