"The flowers are like snow, and their fragrance is as old as before. They are scattered on the cloud bank and filled with sorrow. The west wind breaks through thousands of dreams and dyes them with frost for a few more times." Once again woke up from the dream, only to feel a touch of coldness sliding down her cheeks. Hua Tingxue slowly wiped away the tears on her face. The memory in the dream may be difficult to erase in this life. He got up and walked to the desk, where he drew a picture of the man who was haunting his dream. After writing a few sentences, he stood still like a diseased tree. Looking at the scene in the painting, his spring-like eyes revealed infinite sadness and tenderness. Under the cold moonlight, it seemed that he was in a desperate situation and was about to be annihilated by the darkness of night. He will continue to move forward with these beautiful things and sorrows, even if the hope he cannot grasp is so slim, even if he spends his whole life...
Intention: There is love in the world, and all living beings gather together for justice