Copywriting:
In the small courtyard of the old days, the sunlight carefully fell on the branches.
Motes of dust danced.
Rotate.
The rose-red wild rose bush in the corner climbed up the fence, and its soft petals bloomed, swaying in the cold morning breeze, revealing their fragrance.
Distantly, the subtle sound of flowers blooming came from afar.
The courtyard door gradually opened, creaking with an ancient deep sound, and a slender and beautiful hand stretched out from the crack in the door.
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The picture freezes.
0.0Sorry for the incompetence of the copywriter