In this year, Jinyi returned to his hometown, but the dim lights were nowhere to be seen. Regardless of success or merit, thousands of beautiful things have been turned into dust; regardless of thinking or delusion,
, all kinds of thoughts turned into smoke. At the beginning, stitches were stitched tightly, and threads of affection were expressed. I asked, when will my old friend return? Your heart is probably desolate, with nowhere to go
The loneliness of hiding is like wild weeds, covering the way back when you come and the grave when you go. That year, the sun set day by day and dusk was just right, but it became your heart
The silhouette can no longer be replaced by the gentleness with raised eyebrows. In this world, a piece of soil and a tomb are her destination. . .