In March in Suzhou, the spring breeze is intoxicating.
The mountains and plains are full of fragrance and fallen flowers.
Mu Xinghai walked through the sea of people and looked at one person.
The man was wearing white clothes, with a green jade pendant hanging on his waist. He was gentle, elegant, and unusually handsome. Seeing his gaze, she was stunned for a moment, then she smiled, nodded, opened her lips lightly, and said in a voice like water from the mountains, like pearls falling on a jade plate: "... I am Fei Fei, and my literary talent is Fei Fei."
A short story, a new try
Thief
You can read it for yourselves. I originally wanted to write about catching fast attacks. As I wrote, I felt that catching fast attacks felt better. Then I kept writing and writing and felt that fast attacks were getting better...
Intention: