One morning in late July.
The sky is clear and transparent, and the sun shines slantly from the mountains on the road in Baihuagou Village on the outskirts of Chengde City. The breeze carries the pleasant fragrance of flowers, and the grass blades on the roadside are shining with overnight dew. It is a very good morning.
Wang Xiaoyang was walking around looking around. She seemed to be in her twenties, slightly short in stature, but her measurements were in excellent proportions. She was as winding as a musical note. She was wearing a red shirt, a green skirt, and earth-colored shoes and socks. She only wears a thick braid, hanging between the two high points on her chest, which is eye-catching. Her face is like a pear, as juicy as a pear, her eyebrows are like new rainbows, her eyes are like autumn pools, and her lips are naturally full of passionate cells, as if they were specially born for kiss.
Behind her was a handsome young man of medium height. There was some Japanese in their conversation and laughter. Although they looked tired, they were still immersed in the world of youthful love.
Conception: