A hook of the waning moon, the wind blows the spring shirt, and there is a kind of loneliness that is not tolerant of the five colds. Everything is cold, cold wind, cold moon, blowing cold my heart and waking up my dreams.

I love the willow trees and watch them dance in the wind and sway under the moon. Can I keep the willows? The willows are still clinging, but under the trees, alone under the moon. I like to be alone, let the lonely wind blow the wind chimes in my heart, like a faint lighthouse on the sea, and I am listening quietly. Looking back in the footsteps of that man, I always live in the past. The bits and pieces of the past are poured on the somewhat withered flowers in my heart, a little sad, a little beautiful. But it's more about missing. Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts, boundless thoughts, the boundless night swallows everything, I still want to find a place to miss quietly.

When I am lonely, I love to fantasize, I fantasize about the bleak and beautiful legends, I fantasize about becoming the hero of the legendary story, and I fantasize about the moon like remembering the story we once had. I don't know why I always like to fantasize about legends as heartbreaking tragedies, but I just feel that I am willing to let the merciless tears flow and let the sentient knife penetrate a little deeper into the heart. Love and hate are only between the lines, the tears of longing flow into the mouth and slide to the chest, but you can't tell the taste of it, is it a feeling of loneliness? Five hundred years ago, we agreed to forget everything, and from then on, you and I will never be the same again. But when you wake up from the dream, the cold tears awaken the warmth of yesterday, and the faint evil smile hanging on the corner of your mouth.

Five hundred years of wordless loneliness hit me, and I was drunk to relieve a thousand sorrows. When the wine is sad, the heart is a little sad and a little missed. In the face of a round of cold moon, there are a few lovesick tears, which makes my heart miss more deeply. You drink and forget, you forget me, but I think, I want you to remember, I want to remind you of our story, I don't want to lose again, but I can't.

Drunk, drunk, let your chaotic thoughts be more melancholy, let yourself forget all this, let yourself never meet you again, I can't do it. Dreams, dreams of death, immersed in dreams, going back to the past, letting the past reappear, with a little falsehood, a little mockery, let me revisit the old place, and then let fate mock the man with tears and not flick, just because he has not reached the sad place.

Sigh, sigh. A little sad, a little lonely. The voice of the Yiren in the past has long been fixed in my heart, but when I look back, everything in the past has been picked up one by one like a maple leaf. Love? Hate? Love is extremely hateful, but hate is also the depth of love. Memories are like, memories are like, and the moon is missed. It's just fate that makes people, and I owe you an ending after five hundred years. After five hundred years of waiting, I finally met you in this life. I don't want to force each other, but I want to make up for the promise I owed you five hundred years ago.

The moon is like water, and the cold stars are chasing. Under the beautiful night sky, only the teenager who loves fantasy remains. Is it the luxury of wearing the stars and the moon? Is it the leisure of picking up the stars and the moon? Or the magnificence of a comet hitting the moon? finally found out that it was the loneliness of the lone star Aoyue. I wish time was a little faster, so that my sky was light. I really want to go back a few points in time, so that my world can't live without you.