Calling you a pretty enemy is half a joke and half a joke. Although I was angry, half of them refused and half of them agreed. The charm of men and women is half and half. After thinking about it, where is the beautiful enemy? If you think about it, how can you still feel confused? They say I'm a big bastard, half knowing and half not knowing, although I find it difficult to speak, half shy and half generous. The beauty of love between a man and a woman is that it is half and half. When two people are in love, how can there be life and death, and how can there be day and night?