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Drizzle Blows over the Pond

Tangdiya

13K01

The guard of the dangerous building with a hundred feet returns. After several spring and autumn years, don't ask if you regret it. Who will come back after the broken string is rolled up? The watery moon half knows my sorrow. Thousands of feet of white hair are broken in the passing years, thousands of sails have passed, how can I worry about whether I will return. The dog cooks the bow and hides the empty heart, and the white rainbow does not laugh at the sun.