Every move is repeated, and you are separated from you.
More than ten thousand miles apart, each one is at the end of the sky.
The road is too long, so how can we know when we meet?
The Hu horse relies on the north wind and crosses the bird's nest in the south branch.
The distance is far away, and the belt is slow.
The clouds cover the sun, and the wanderers ignore the rebellion.
I miss you and make you old, but it’s too late.
Abandon donations and don’t say anything again, try to add more meals.
That was what I heard during the Southern Expedition. Hu Han’s grudges and king’s tyranny were instantly empty. Not to mention the world, even a woman would have been facing each other thousands of miles from now on.
At that time, he never thought he would have such feelings.
At that time, he was still very young and heroic. He had all the world in his eyes and hearts, and he had never had a woman!
Only lonely people think of women.
Only a man who has been lonely for a long time can sing and hold tears in his eyes:
Sijun makes people old—
Time is suddenly too late—
It was too late without realizing it!
It is obviously firmly owned, but it will become - too late?!
Whoever has more power will get more.
My son is indeed his own son!
The methods are all the same.
He opened his mouth, and the smell of fishy sweetness in his mouth squirted on his snow-white hair.
The eyes were blurred and I couldn't even see the moon clearly.
It's even colder than the night when I was "on the dying day".
However, it was not really unconscious. In front of me, there was a figure of a woman, a white gauze skirt, black hair, a garland on her head, and she ran barefoot in the forest like a thrilling deer.
Such a pure and flawless girl.
Sometimes, I think of her as my daughter, and sometimes, as my lover; I am gentle in front of my chest, delicately pillowing, and warmly breathing, just like my ears.
He reached out and hugged her: "Fangfei, Fangfei...Fangfei..."
The coldness all over the floor made his eyes dark and he fainted.
In his hand, he held a hairpin tightly. It was when she was dying. The hairpin was still bright, but the world had already changed its beauty.