Falling flower season.
You are dressed in a moon-white gown, and you stretched out your hand towards me from under the shadow of the overlapping flowers. Behind you are the distant mountains covered with mist and mist, which is like a poem or a dream. The green smoke, the white clouds, and the luxuriant grass are like meticulous paintings embroidered on the silk gauze. Your face with a gaze and a smile comes into view, and is reflected all the way to the bottom of your heart, reflecting thousands of turns, as tender as water.
But I once thought that this was what it meant to be together forever.
Conception: