Liu Yong
Cold and sad. The pavilion was late and the shower began to rest. All the accounts are not in the mood. I miss places and Lanzhou to urge me to send them. Holding hands and looking at each other, tears swirled in my eyes until there were no words at last, and a thousand words stuck in my throat and I couldn't say it. Thinking about thinking, thousands of miles of smoke, dusk sank into ChuTiankuo.
Love hurts and leaves since ancient times. What's more, it is a cold autumn festival. Where did you wake up tonight? Yang Liuan and Xiaofeng are dying. After the New Year, it should be a good time and a good scene. Customs are strange, who to talk to.