A woman with outstanding grace and grace stood on top of the green building, clutching a book of Tang poems in her bare hands. She leaned on the railing, her eyes full of affection in the setting sun, and she raised her eyes affectionately, longing to see the ancient west wind road and the thousands of miles of thin horses through the deep courtyard.
Her brows were furrowed, her lips were slightly parted, revealing two rows of neat white teeth, and she exhaled like a orchid: "I only do one thing in my life, and I only love one person in my life. Listening to you recite three hundred poems, I miss you for three hundred days; when I no longer miss you, I will be in a state of ecstasy."