Who Understands the Feeling of “I’d Buy Osmanthus Blossoms and Share a Drink, but It’s Never Like Those Carefree Days of Youth” in a Novel?
I want content similar to The Sick Tree Branch Meets Spring Again. Who understands how much weight the poem “I wanted to buy osmanthus blossoms and share wine on the road, but it was never like those carefree days of youth” carries in the novel?
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Very unappealing! The author's writing style and logic are very good, the characters are very delicate, the plot is very attractive, it is really beautiful to watch 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤