All endings have been written.
All the tears came out.
I suddenly forgot what kind of beginning this was.
On that ancient summer day that is gone forever.
No matter how I pursue it.
Young you are just passing by.
And your smile is extremely shallow.
Gradually disappear into the haze of the future.
Then open the yellow title page.
Fate has bound it badly.
I looked at it again and again, with tears in my eyes.
But I have to admit.
Youth is a book that is too hasty.
Tears rhyme, how many generations turn into songs?
A touch of ink, whose stubbornness was it in previous lives?
3 thousand complicated silk, it's the same to break up.
Thinking on a moonlit night has hurt people.
Frost on maple leaves, whose ink fragrance is in Han Li?