The case of Qingqi Luoteng and Slim Tiao, dreaming of returning thousands of miles to the Huai family. The snow-white autumn chrysanthemum spring condenses, and the green ripples are charming in the wind. It's suspicious, Ruan Ling Que shines and sings, Hong Qi dances with light tea.
The royal family is cold and unknowable, caressing the willows and pampas grass and begging for flowers. The copper caltrop is red and the temples are not yet frosty. It is hard to find the emperor's yarn in the heart of the king. Who knows, the jade finger is faintly copying the book, the rays of sunlight move the green grass, the muxuan is as thin as it is full of beauty, and I don't dare to laugh and cry at the peak of my face. In this life, I wish to follow the long moon and thousands of sweet words far away from the sand.
A story to tell.
Conception: