It is the golden well of the windlass, full of red and cold fallen flowers. When they meet suddenly, they are confused and confused. Who cares? Who saves? From then on, the pattern of the bamboo mat and the shadow of the lamp were reflected.
From then on, the pattern of the bamboo mat and the shadow of the lamp were reflected.
Shen Baiyi thought about this sentence softly, Xiu'er, since we said goodbye, why bother seeing each other again? Seeing it, it's just speechless. If possible, I should never see him again. He sighed quietly, turned around and left.
The boy in purple clenched his fists, lowered his head and did not look at the retreating figure. The unspoken word "white" was swallowed into his throat.
Alone and without company. Baiyi, if you want it, I'll give it all to you. So, if you want to leave, I will never stay.
When the last touch of white was at the end of the alley, the boy fell to the ground. The flowers falling all over the ground were as red as fire and extremely gorgeous, but it was this incomparable beauty that burned his eyes. This flower is just like him and his love, no matter how beautiful and bright it blooms, in the end it just falls to the ground and turns into mud without leaving any trace.
Conception: