Look.
Ren Xifeng secretly combed the door.
Lavender embroidered quilt, dreaming of innocence. It was a sunny day and the peach blossoms were drunk. People at that time.
Sigh.
With the coming of winter, shadows drift across the curtain.
The hydrangea stands alone in the window, thinking about autumn. The shadow of the moon is falling, the sandalwood trees are mourning, far away in the countryside.
Ridicule.
On a cool night, the moon breaks through the willow tips.
Yangmei walks through the snow, thinking of the traces of fragrance. Time passes by, the partridges fly away, and I look for them all my life.
Groan.
I pray that I will find a good friend with half a pillow.
The hibiscus steals the spring and chases the green branches. The veil is broken, the clouds are broken, the dream of resentment is mud, and the heart is red.
Purpose: to record the little beauties of youth.