The dream chasing hero traveled thousands of miles, but found a little snow cat on the mountain trail. He tied up her hair, tied up the swing for her, and doted on her like a daughter, making her the softest cloud in the world. The little kitten demon grew up in the blink of an eye, pulling his sleeves to hold one "marriage" after another - no burning candles, only sweet-scented osmanthus making wine; no worship of heaven and earth, only hand-holding. What they consider "marriage" is to turn the page of "father and daughter" and write it as "relatives": a glance can light up the journey home; a word of "brother-in-law" can relieve the wind and frost.
In the years to come, flying pigeons bring peace, osmanthus rain brings love words, and swings carry smiles. He protects her innocence, and she warms his lonely shadow; the shadow of swords and swords outside the window, the warm fragrance of brocade and quilt inside the window. In terms of deeds, he traveled through the four seasons for her; in terms of heart, she kept her softness secretly for him. The mountains and rivers are far away, and the bed is very close, enough to make two heartbeats beat in the same beat.
If you happen to be tired, please turn to this page - see the sincerity shown by the dead, the tenderness hidden by the saints, the companionship, the way back, the fragrance makes the sleeves full of sweet-scented osmanthus.
After knocking, the body was warm.