There is a quiet song in Qingfan, with long words of seclusion and hatred.
A piece of worry written on a piece of paper can't express the endless sorrow.
I may know why I am lovesick, so I pick up a handful of red beans.
Lock eyebrow pluck button, double sleeves.
So, the prosperity has passed away, and the remaining ink is cool. Can you remember the bright eyes?
=-= Well, my own short story
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