There are fifty strings of brocade strings for no reason, each string and column is reminiscent of the past. Zhuang Sheng was fascinated by butterflies in his morning dream, and he looked forward to the emperor's spring heart filled with cuckoos. The moon in the sea sheds tears, and the warm sun in Lantian produces smoke. Can this feeling be remembered? It was just that I was at a loss at that time... Tears fell from the handsome face of the black-haired boy and dripped on the paper. The blurred ink was like the blooming cherry blossoms in that season, tragic... Naruto... A sob overflowed, the pain penetrated the soul...
Intention: