Under the blazing sun, sunflowers turn their faces skyward. I still remember that late autumn in the maple woods, when we stopped our carriage and you blushed like a beautiful maiden.
We need not sing across the river; all we wish for is the Twenty-Four Bridges. On a moonlit night, a beauty plays the flute.
The ancient city of Roland, lost for two hundred years, has reappeared on the continent. What kind of adventure will it set in motion? A low-magic alternate-world adventure, telling a different kind of tale.
No dragging things out: this is a carefully crafted novel. Updates may be slow, but it will never be abandoned.
Author's Weibo: http://t.qq.com/lazymo
