I recall my plain hands. Xuan Yi is hazy, his smile is lightly twitching, and he looks back charmingly. Three shadows play on the lights, outside the chaos, and in the loose rope. In the past and present life, there were no end to the waves, and only the bare hands were left holding each other.
I remember Honglan. I entrust you with my thoughts, my lovesickness gradually grows, and my journey is long. Please give it a try when a person is deeply in love. He is frank and speechless, and his brushes are congenial. The ordinary world is drinking, drifting without hindrance, but looking at the red river to accompany it.