You said that love is a pure work of art, it only cares about you and me, regardless of March 8 or the past.
I said love is the love of a group of people. Without applause, how can it taste sweet?
Her blessings with ulterior motives, his messy ways, the past, and the unknown tomorrow.
Some good things cannot be achieved without hard work.
I am just a passer-by in your heart, a destined floating cloud.