When it rains in Phoenix Mountain, it clears up at the beginning, the water and wind are clear, and the sunset is bright.
A hibiscus bloomed gracefully.
A pair of egrets flew from nowhere, admiring Pingting if you wanted to.
Suddenly I heard that mourning kites were being played on the river. They were bitter and affectionate. Who should listen to them?
The smoke gathers and the clouds gather, it is Xiang Ling as promised.
I want to wait until the end of the song to ask for it, but no one can see it, and the peaks are green.
Meet, get acquainted, know each other, cherish each other.
It's like a dream, until the flowers fall and the song ends and everyone disperses.
And the red thread we hold tightly will never end.
Two red threads tie the fate of two pairs of people.
She held one end of the red line tightly and followed the ups and downs of the world; he held one end of the red line tightly and hid it deep in his heart.
On the other hand, she holds one end of the red line tightly, secretly falling in love with him on the other side of the red line; on the other hand, he holds one end of the red line tightly, guarding her on the other side of the red line.