This is one of my novels: it tells the story of how a sentimental child lives in this world with beautiful legends! Stay tuned! It was raining lingeringly that day, and the white and fragrant weeping flowers were hiding in the corner and blooming sadly. Noble, lonely, pure. Xiaoyou walked towards here with his head lowered. . .
What a self-admiring flower! Xiaoyou's eyes were dull, and she would rather go to the days of having nothing but asking for nothing, those days of wearing ponytails, failing curls, and hairpins studded with fake diamonds. He squatted down to pick up a drop of 3-degree tears, and then let out a miserable sneer like a ghost, blowing across the dilapidated dead end alley. There are boys who are pretentiously self-righteous and stubborn. This is really ridiculous. On the days when the villain is in power, who will bury the yellow flowers on your forehead in your tent. Xiaoyou's grandmother always nags: You, you have to be low-key. Besides, Xiaoyou also has a lot of