In the heart-burning calamity, even if the sparse shadows are slanting across the clear water, and the faint fragrance floats in the moonlit dusk, the man who is as gentle as jade is the sigh of everyone left; and flowers bloom out of stubborn rocks, and flowers in Qingqian's heart are more like stones, and "love" drips through the stone, leaving a mark that is worth the erosion of time.
I am incompetent as a copywriter
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