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There is a fish in the North Ming Dynasty, and its name is Kun; there is a tang in the South China Sea, and its name is Chun; there is a god in the far north, and its name is Qiu; the Kunpeng spreads its wings, and the phoenix rests on the phoenix tree; the Qiu transforms into the wind and rain, holding the hand of the pile; the waves have no Sound, life is peaceful; destiny plays tricks on people, and the pile comes and goes; hidden heartache, big fish and begonia; I fall in love with the pile, and I am willing to share the flesh and blood to become the beauty of the two of them, and the pile comes and goes, and the begonia flowers bloom. In the absence of Kun, the encounters between Chun and Qiu in dreams, the encounters in reality, and the accidents, are they destined or intentional? Piles of fog are coming...