There is no wind or rain in my life, and there is no sunshine.
She is a prisoner bird in a cage. I hope that one day the phoenix in my heart can spread its wings and fly, free from the fetters of this world, soaring in the sky and sailing across the sea freely.
She was the killer she picked up. She cleared all the obstacles for her father, but she couldn't clear away the storm that night. . . . .
Conception: