If the orange grows in Huainan, it becomes orange; if it grows in the north of Huaibei, it becomes orange.
Seven years ago, Jiang Huai was a simple-minded young master with eyes as bright as stars in the sky. Seven years later, Jiang Huai still had a smile on his face, but his eyes no longer had that light.
Jiang Huai looked at the green tea soup in the white porcelain cup in his hand, his palms were burning, and the rising mist blurred his eyes. He suddenly remembered that when he and Jiang tide were watching dramas, the concubine in full dress on TV was kneeling on the ground, with tears on her face, and said fiercely to the person in front of her: I wonder if it is my blessing or my sin that my appearance is similar to hers.
Jiang Huai laughed at himself, what's the point of fighting for happiness and evil? For seven years, my heart fell on him, but in the end it left no trace in that person's heart. What Yan Lingyu was thinking about was the white moonlight in front of his window. For him, this can be considered a blessing or a curse.