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Appreciation


Half trace, cold moon. Cool and cool without losing brightness.

A poet Lin Feng is independent on the small building, with a blooming peony in front of him.

Is the peony tonight just for her to bloom? Li Wei closed his eyes slightly, as if he had entered an infinite meditation. When he was still a heroic and versatile six emperor, he saw her, the woman who still makes him dream of a nightmare - Zhou Yihuang. If the fairy is in general, between the gestures, it seems to exude a spirit of water, graceful. But when she was seriously ill, he was there again. He didn't feel the softness of his heart, and he never got into the heart. He sighed and slowly raised his head, opened his eyes, and hung a bright moon on a quiet night. The cold wind swept past his handsome but a little vicissitudes of cheeks. Li Wei didn't feel hurt, and there were a few tears in his eyes. I blame my own weakness in the past. Now, how much do you know about the past?

Oh, it’s sad. How many sorrows and tears have been carried in a river of spring water.

Gently scented, carved bar. Li Wei walked along the boardwalk of the small building. His left hand gently stroked the finely carved Shenbei dry, and the front was hit by the cold wind, the night was deep, and it was a windy night. I suddenly remembered that this night was also the time when Dongfeng was unable to blow to the small building that buried him in the river. I couldn’t help but be embarrassed.

The past has gone, how much rouge tears.

The old Nantang and the singers and dances also went against this long wind and the wind, and the country is looking back. . . Today, the courts and pavilions in the palace should still be there, but it is already Zhu Yan. Li Wei, Li Wei, is it hard that you can only do this? The glow of the past has been overshadowed by the guys in the literature. It’s hard to lose in Liu Yu’s hands.

He shook his head, and he thought too much tonight, and he turned into a tearful tears in his face, slashing his cheeks, slap on the slender and white hands, and then turned into a river and died eastward. .

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