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Lack of personality signature of the late confidante.
After ten years of stumbling, cinnabar left with tears. The fallen flowers follow the relentless water, and the beauty on the moon has gone, and the shadow of the moon covers a few sighs.

Without green plums, green plums are withered and fragrant everywhere; If you don't see a bamboo horse, you will grow old and miss Wan Li.

In this life, you are me, a confidante who has forgotten for thousands of years. You are me, dyed red and dispelled all my sad thoughts.

A burst of quotations adorn Lingxiao, judge jade by yourself, be the first to arrive at sunrise and make you happy! The body disappears in the fragrance, and I suddenly return to my mind. In short, it is still dusty. Qiao Feng is arrogant, seeking in this life, staying in this life, and people are homesick in books!

On the road of life, the wind and rain are about to drip. Looking back at the pain of refusing to sigh, walking on the journey of crossing the Buddha, tossing and turning, stepping through difficult steps, once lost myself, I can't help but ask myself, is it difficult to be a confidante in the passing of fate?

Be a boat, let it carry my missing heart, row to you in the distance, send my gentle kiss, solve the troubles between your eyebrows and drive away the worries in your heart.