rter of an hour,
The entrance of the saloon on the 1st floor.
Like patches of green misty ocean,
The mountains are rolling up and down,
He bent slightly, and at the same time whispered: Welcome,
There is a bridge over the creek,
like a mirage,
The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,
looming, smoky,
Bend it now and then,
danced lightly,
As if singing the symphony of spring,
Pieces of green in different shades,
into the stream,
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,
Can' t tell which is a flower and which i
The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,
Watching the outside world carefully,
Standing in the left and right rows of realistic robots wearing maid costumes,
look around,
There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
Solanum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,
like a paradise on earth,
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,
The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,
The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,
sometimes lift it up,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
crystal clear,
The stream is microwaved,
The flowers follow the breeze,
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,
The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,