This is such a grand mourning. Bits and pieces, intermittent.
Just wait for the song to end and everyone disperses.
How gorgeous a turn is it to be worthy of the dazzling brilliance at this moment, and how charming a look back is to be worthy of the charming young man's smile that is falling to the ground at this moment?
Who is it that takes a look at Qingcheng? Who cares about Qingguo anymore?
The next thing I think about is, it's the end, who ruined whom?
Listen, in the distance, a war horse neighs. Who has returned to the ancient battlefield to attack the city?
This is such a hypocritical city, with beauties smiling everywhere and singing stations singing warmly.
Everywhere, well-dressed.
In such a city, little children are destined to be devoured.
Did you know? This is called reality. Because if people want to survive, they cannot afford feelings.
What to do once you fall in love?
Young children will also tell you: Sometimes, love may not last forever.
This is the three thousand prosperity in your eyes in the prosperous year.