Whose feelings are intoxicated by misty rain, whose past is depicted by faint painters, and the tender feelings of that season are opened by proud Xia Lian.

With a laugh and a sigh, my persistence turned into joys and sorrows overnight. The sky is wet, the distant mountains are wet, the road is wet, and my heart is wet. That long-planned encounter was finally completed by giving up. I packed up the faded gloom, folded up the yellowed plain paper, and propped up a handful of black bitterness, from the falling place of dreams, from the end of disappointment, and from the corner of the season ... Along the way, I closed my heart and eyes, and didn't want to let the dawn of the morning glimpse my inner feelings. A bus will ups and downs my mood and make my thoughts turn around.