"Master, please accept my disciple's bow..."
I laugh at myself, why do I keep thinking of this sentence recently?
Since you are far away from me, don't take any more souvenirs.
Twisting the dry dogtail grass on the grave, my life day after day is this whitish, thin color - occasionally the wind blows, my mind calms down slightly, I think about my life, the reincarnation hidden in front, and the people who are in the same fate, I am slightly sad, but I still can't grasp the medicine of the world of Yanfu for me.
I am the descendant of a god who is destined to protect this vicissitudes of life, who has fallen and been reborn.
However, in this vast wilderness, what I choose is to love or be loved? Confused or determined? Master or bamboo horse?
The first person tells the story of the young apprentice's growth experience.