A thousand people have a thousand colorful dreams. When I mention this pen, my dream in my heart is like a tiger sniffing the rose. In the silent night, I light a furnace of light incense and weave a story from three hundred years ago in the curling smoke. Maybe it is not charming, but it really lingers in my heart, so let me tell it gently. . . .
-------Preface
"Life is as bright as a summer flower because of you"
Three hundred years later,
We still hold hands,
Coming from the depths of time,
Traveling under the moonlight,
I still use my chest,
Cover you from the cold dew of the night.