Half of the wall is covered with green sand, and a row of smokey willows is like a painting.
When I look back at Yuan Ganjun, I can't help but feel sorry for him.
The lovesickness is so profound that it is difficult to write on a blank page.
(The text should be as HE [looking at the sky] as possible, with little entanglements and no serious abuse. Dear readers, please don't miss it if you pass by ←_←Mu Di...)
Intention: