The colorful sleeves held the jade bell diligently, but in those days, the beauty was drunk.
Dancing low to the moon in the heart of the willow tower, singing to the wind under the peach blossom fan.
After we said goodbye, we met again and again, and shared our dreams with you several times.
I only have a few silver jars left to take photos of tonight, as if I was afraid that the encounter was a dream.
Conception: