The branches of the white birches are soaked up by the rays of light, permeating your silhouette. Your moving eyes are just like the water of the West Lake. On the sparkling lake, you watch the rising and setting sun and moon lightly, and the gorgeous spring and autumn.
I never thought that the gentle breeze and calm water of the West Lake would cause such waves, and I never thought that I, Mo Ruoxuan, would share the world with you. . .