This is the season when crape myrtles are blooming. The dusk is already swallowing up the bloody sunset. The sky is rare blue, and a few golden clouds leisurely overlook the earth. All kinds of plants are full of energy, competing in this dusk, doing their best to contribute their favorite colors to the sun. The water drops on the flowers wet Ye Wei's fingertips. Ye Wei stared at the flowers from time to time, as if she wanted to read some sadness from the language of flowers. Fortunately, she felt a little bit of coolness in this hot weather. Look at the sky, it might still be too late to rush to Nanhu Cemetery before it gets dark. The weather is still very hot. Ye Wei's bean-green short-sleeved shirt and pure white cross-body bag are stuck in the middle recess of her swollen breasts. Her white cropped pants wrap her slender legs. Her delicate white shoes set off her smooth feet. Her long hair is tied into a high bun. The ponytail, which moves rhythmically with the pace, and the blush after walking adds a bit of charm and handsomeness to her youthful face. It is fresh and straight like a lotus plant in bud in summer, and soft and delicate like a shy crape myrtle dancing in the wind.
Intention: Originally, I wanted to write a beautiful love story, but I didn't realize that what is beautiful is love, and what is heavy is life.