Worry-Free Flowers Bloom

Hemerocallis fulva, also known as forget-worn grass. Flower language: 1. Forgotten love, "forget all unpleasant things". = 2. Let go of him or her and let go of the sorrow. 3. Hidden mood. 4. The forgetfulness of love. You chose to forget, which means you loved in your heart. Choose to forget because of the pain of love. Like a beautiful couple like a flower, years pass by like a fleeting time. We can't go back to the past, but we can't go back to the beginning. Even though she was prepared, when that day came, she still felt heartbroken. No, it wouldn't happen anymore. How could it hurt if her heart was gone? She dragged her unbearable body and walked hard step by step. Soon, she fell down on the land that she had been reluctant to part with. When she was dying, she looked around and saw a large cluster of tea flowers blooming, and she smiled foolishly. . . . . . Tea flowers bloom - the beauty of the end. The flowers have bloomed, and the dust and smoke have passed. How much do you know? Tumi is the last flower in summer. When it blooms, there is no way out and it can no longer be beautiful. How hopeless and decadent. The tea flowers bloom, and a woman's youth is a thing of the past. The tea flowers are blooming and the relationship is about to end. When love reaches its peak, the most splendid, prosperous or unforgettable love in life is about to be lost. . . . . . Modern Ling was strolling along the alleys, busy streets with people coming and going. Suddenly he looked back and saw a woman who looked exactly like Wuyou walking out of a store. Ling's eyes lit up and he stepped to catch up, but there was someone who was one step ahead of him and put his coat on the woman. "Is it cold?" The gentle man asked gently. "It's not cold. I just came out of the store and will be fine in a while." The woman shook her head and explained. "Let's go." "Okay." The man half hugged the woman and walked towards a car, and the two of them got into the car one after another. Ling chased after him, but within half a mile, the car had already started. Ling could only watch them leave. The man in the car unintentionally glanced at the rearview mirror and opened his mouth slightly, "It's him!" "Who?" The woman looked back. "Murong Ling." "Oh." The woman's mood remained unchanged, nothing unusual. "Aren't you going to find him?" "No." The woman shook her head. It's hard enough to ask for something but not get it in two lives. It's better to spend two lives to love and have one life to be ordinary. I can't remember what it feels like to love someone. . . . . .