The sun shines down through the staggered thick oval leaves of the privet tree, and the speckled tree shadows are reflected messily on Yeyan Lake.
"The moon is bright and the clouds are light and the dew is thick. I lean on my pillow and listen to the cicadas on the four walls. The west wind hurts the autumn and Song dynasties. The fallen leaves frighten my dream, and I walk leisurely in the dust and count the falling red." There is no other person except Mrs. Yao who can sing "The Story of the Hosta" so melodiously and melodiously.
Although she is called Madam, in fact, she is just a woman who has just passed her thirties. She has been pampered and pampered all her life, and she is still as delicate as a big girl. Who could have known that this beauty was already the mother of two daughters... Unfortunately, her husband died early and she has been left alone and widowed ever since.
Qinyuan gently shook her cattail leaf fan at Yeyan Lake and watched the cherry fish swim happily in the lake. This is Mrs. Yao's favorite, and the rose color all over her body is very attractive. I was watching intently when I suddenly heard my mother singing happily. A long sigh...
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