The moonlight is cold and cold. The ruined court and the ruined flowers. He stood under the moon, his face colder than the moonlight. There was a three-foot-three-inch sword in his hand, which also glowed coldly. He looked coldly at the man in front of him who melted into the moonlight, and said coldly: "Have you ever imagined that you would be in such a situation?" The man smiled slightly, ignoring the cold front on his neck and playing with the withered peach blossoms on the branches. "Right and wrong, success and failure, wealth and honor, are just like this flower, moving with the seasons and rising according to nature. The difference between actions and actions is nothing." He crushed the broken pistil of the flower in his hand, and said in a cold and empty voice, "I regard it as trivial." His fingertips trembled slightly. He realizes that this smiling person is colder than anyone else. He may be warm and friendly to you, but he will never hide his innate disdain. You can say that you see through him, but you can never understand him. Just like his eyes were compassionate at that moment, but his hands were so determined and cruel. So cruel. In fact, it's just a simple story. Let's practice writing 0+0.
Conception: