There is a bird in the south, named Phoenix. It will not rest on the sycamore tree, and it will not drink from the sweet spring. In short, this is a story between a little phoenix and a sycamore tree.
When the phoenix was still a little phoenix, the sycamore tree was already an old phoenix tree.
I have always wanted to describe some interactions between men and women. Who stipulates that the heroine in a novel must be soft and cute, and the male pig's feet must be domineering and arrogant? I feel that women can also be domineering and arrogant, and the male protagonist can also be gentle and elegant, so the idea for this article came up while I was frozen. I hope you all can support me.