It was an autumn day with clear skies, and the maple leaves were falling. A long street is where I first met you. Your face is elegant, your ink is slightly raised, and your elongated figure reflects the distant scenery, making you appear in the painting without ink. You walked towards me slowly, everything seemed so logical and clear as the breeze.
. . . .
But. . His Yaya! No matter how poetic or picturesque the scene is, there will never be any poetic and picturesque events when this kid is present. It was like this before marriage, and even more like this after marriage!
I should regret being abducted home by this kid. .