The willow trees beside the road are inextricably linked, and I can't help but feel a bit melancholy. Diyue's words of alliance are not words in dreams. If you come back later, you will never forget our relationship and pour a glass of wine on the soil of your slave's grave.
My oath to you is three thousand years, so what if we only meet in three thousand years and one year? So what should we do?
Conception:
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.