The grievances and grievances of the four houses, the love and hatred of two generations. From the small town to Yanjing, it was a bumpy road.
Your wine is my harp; your eyes are my heart; your deception is my hiding; your determination is my powerlessness.
If life is just like the first time we met, why should the autumn wind draw a fan sadly?
It's a pity that my youth and frivolity failed you in waiting...
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A stumbling debut, a dark history that can't be looked at =w=
Intention: