Copywriting 1: The dust rises and the story begins...
"Since you and I have enmity, why bother? Why should we be so hypocritical?" Liyue sneered a few times and said, her hands still tightly grasping the hilt of the sword and sending blood dripping deep into it. As if her heart was broken, the blood flow suddenly surged, cold and ruthless, but the trembling bones of her body were still bearing the fierceness of the sword.
Laugh at her for being crazy, laugh at her for being infatuated, laugh at her for being obsessed. Hate him for being ruthless, hate him for being cruel, and hate him even more for not understanding.
In an instant, everything disappeared when she was broken. At the moment when she was broken, Mu Bai collapsed. He instantly felt that this woman was the most important person to her, who was often lost and could never be saved.
Copy 2: Open the pages of this book that have been covered with dust for a long time, a book full of dust and thick soil and sand. A story that records the entanglement of love and hate, and the sea of love and hatred. Next, let me unveil this heavy page for you.
Snow is flying all over the sky, the cold wind is howling, flowers are falling, leaves are withered, and catkins are floating in the wind. I ask Bodhi where my heart is, but I am speechless. The duckweed has no roots and the wind has no thoughts. That year, on Zhang Hua's stage, there was a certain girl with clear green eyebrows and pink flowers, her skin was creamy, her lips were red and her teeth were white, and her eyes were as affectionate as water. Smiling and replying, his face gradually became slightly tipsy, like a peach blossom blooming for the first time, playing the harp and playing the pipa.
But now it is too late to recall this matter. The fallen flowers and willows, the catkins flying, the ruins and ruins, the ruined face, and the heart are already mourning. In an instant, the sword was unsheathed, blood spattered three feet, and the corners of his lips were stained with blood. But since I know that destiny is a foregone conclusion, and I don't believe in destiny, how could it happen. But why do you think about the past? How come there are many changes in the autumn, the times have passed, the prosperity has disappeared, and you only laugh at your own ridiculous past mist.
Conception:
