I have no power to write copy, and my heart is broken. I just ask everyone to read my article and don't let it go.
I think of his pure white sandalwood hands when drinking tea, or his slightly frowning eyebrows. At first glance, they were swept over by ink, but in fact they were painted with fine brushwork. I think of his clear eyes when he waded in the stream and opened the peach branches, like a pool of lake nine days away, or standing against a tree with green threads dancing, his whole body untainted by dust.
I think of him approaching me and whispering softly in my ear, his long breath blowing slowly on my neck; I think of having a quarrel with him, and he stepped forward angrily to hug me, and the warmth from his thin body; I think of him handing me grilled fish and slowly closing my hand, and the care and exhaustion in his eyes at that moment.
The river of forgetfulness is with me, I am in the river of forgetfulness.
One is always depressed and the other is depressed and sometimes depressed.
This article focuses on the evildoer, and basically hides all the arrangements and strategies from Xiao Shou.
Xiao Shou is a silly child, so he knows how to play small attacks and supporting roles.
Children's shoes that fall into the trap must be patiently watched.
Slightly, slightly...