In the midsummer of that year, the breeze blew through the willows, and we sat quietly by the river. As the sun set, our shadows merged. The willows on the shore hang down on the sparkling lake, reflecting each other. A gust of wind blows by, carrying the heat, blowing away and disappearing.
Together with our memories, they were blown away, erased, and scattered in all directions.
20223.13 Copywriting finalized
Purpose: Youthful days are worth remembering be