Memory is a record of the past. What if the past is all memory? ———————————————————————
The grievances and grievances of the rivers and lakes are in the night rain, and the heroes of the rivers and lakes are in the warm wine.
"Xiaoyi, is it raining again?"
"Yeah."
The young man put down his bamboo hat, said casually, then put a table on the wine table, took off the wine bottle, and sat by the window to watch the rain and drink.
What happens when a protagonist gets a script written for himself?
Wait a minute, guest, wait a minute~~~~~~
