That was An Pingping's eighteen years old.
It was a startling glimpse in the midst of the feasting and feasting.
It is a touch of warmth in the cold winter nights in the south.
It was Xue Ruan whose smile echoed in her ears.
It is a rose that grows from barren soil.
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The last the last
It is a secret web of jealousy and lies.
It is overwhelming slander and dissemination.
It's just echoes and abuses that follow the crowd.
It is the thorn red blooming on the pure white snow.
Intention: Don't be a network jpx