"Elegant songs are like joyful tunes, and music theory is the end of the journey."
Misfortune is like a willow blade, cutting off the fresh life of young people and also cutting into pieces the memories of joy and sorrow.
During the funeral, Le Zhi stood there quietly, looking at the young man. He was sealed in a wooden coffin, and he didn't even have the strength to push it open.
"Le Zhi! Get up! You're going to be late!" A familiar voice pierced her ears, and she opened her eyes suddenly, turning from shadow into reality. Le Zhi turned over and jumped out of bed, put her hand on the handle, and opened it. She met the boy she longed for, he was warm and real.
"Xiu Xing, I seem to be sick." Le Zhi lowered her head, and her soft words smashed Xiu Xing's heart like a hammer, causing blood to splash everywhere.
"Le Zhi, you should have your own life." The young man stood under the shadow of the tree, and the sunlight fell like ink spots on the green sky and earth, and the crystals falling down were all absurd.
Intention: Make progress every day
