Walking into the balcony window, it is the sound of jade chips scattered. Looking up, the sky turned into a warm rose, as if to supplement the threat of cold. Ear, rustling from the roof, treetops, from the smell of the wind, gradually spread. Reaching out, grains of fine sand fall into the palm of your hand, and the coolness ripples along your fingertips to your heart. Open the window, and the refreshing feeling gently passes over every inch of skin. By the light of the sky, Liang Jingren has been shining all the way. Since nine days ago, they have traveled all over the world.
Hold your breath and look carefully. These winter elves, with fluorescence, descend from the sky, blinking their ghostly eyes from time to time. They used to be water drops on the night of the Yuan Dynasty, transpiration into the air by the sun, running like clouds, and mourning for the rain. Now they are infected by the bleak of the Guanghan Palace, and they are suppressed to this state.
I don't know when he started, his steps became tinkling, his posture became delicate and hard, and he became a ferocious warrior, roaring and rushing to the sky. His heart is like fire, his feet are like frost, and sometimes he is graceful and draws his sword; Sometimes angry, Jinge iron horse. He is like a drunken warrior, looking at the sword with a lamp in his hand, dreaming of blowing the horn and camping. He stumbled, full of passion, knocking on the eaves, shaking the grass and trees, and the whole world was in a terrible atmosphere. The birds are silent, the mountains are silent, the nights are long and people are cold. Finally, he is drunk on the battlefield, and his tender feelings wrapped in pride slowly fade away and gaunt. What falls in the breeze is the most glittering tear on the platform.
The night was quiet, the snow finally stopped, and everything was settled. The cold is still cold, the snowy is still deep, and the icy is still hanging. Looking around, it is refreshing and comfortable for pedestrians. ...