The clear ripples in one corner of the small pond are like paintings, and the pity in this corner of the world is like a dream
Prodigal heart, prodigal love, he is just an adopted only son
It's just that the times we live in are different.
This is a world full of treachery and swords and halberds
It is also an era of sincerity and heroic spirit.
The world is too chaotic, so-called fame, so-called benefits...
Like smoke, it will eventually dissipate
As long as then, he will still smile at him, and he will still treat him like a treasure
What could be more valuable than this?
Conception: