Deep in the distant memory, there is a cloud there, vague and unforgettable. There is laughter, sadness, me, and you in that cloud.
I don't know if you have heard of a story that happened in a remote mountain nook. That nook was named Taohuawu. The story I want to tell happened here. I wanted to say it was complete, but I found that only fragments of memories were left. They were in disarray. Now when I pick them up, they look like a broken blue and white porcelain vase. No matter how serious and careful I am, I can't restore it. Maybe the injury is also a kind of incomplete beauty.
Wannian Pit, please be sure to miss it if you pass by it. If you still can't miss it, then please take a look and pass by. .