The snow swallowed up the remaining red, and the red plum blossoms outside the window withered into ashes in the shadow of the candle. The moment the Xipa fell to the ground, Shen Zhiwei saw those moonlit eyes, but heard the faint sound of paper money burning in the copper basin in the mourning hall.
Well, it's a story of mutual redemption, probably
Note:
It is the product of the author's imagination, and the logic is very peaceful.
Wuwuwuwuwuwuwu I will never write such pretentious articles again. My head hurts so much! ! ! ! ! ! !
Intention: love (no comparison))
