Even the memories that are engraved in the bone marrow will be polished by the quietly moving time. The fragments of details are integrated into the night, and the rest becomes a dream that seems to be real. In the dream, she walked towards her, her face slightly blurred, as if separated by a misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River. The sudden ripples easily shattered the scene into scattered pieces of peach blossoms. But it turned out that she had opened her eyes without knowing when, with tears streaming down her face.
(By the way, this copywriting is really difficult to write. Hey, I will change it in the future. This bad copywriting is completely incomprehensible!)
I... I can't change the font and color of this copy! ! ! Who can tell me! How to do it! Cry!
My speech is very wordy, but actually I just want to lay down a little foreshadowing...