Fate is just the chance of a tree blooming, if you cherish it, it is a spring flower, and if you wave your hand and part, it is a place that is red. When meeting by fate, don't lose time, don't lose time, and don't lose everyone who is destined for you. If you really go to the end of the mountain, don't hurt the people you love and the people who have loved you. After all, comfort each other, warm each other, and learn to be grateful for every encounter in the red dust.

Sit quietly at one end of the day, watching the flowers wither and bloom. I have never forgotten my original intention, and I will still remember that you once fell in love with me at first sight in a text and a melody. That amazing encounter in the end, in the end, it was just a person's autumn water, and I became a look back at the end of the world that you left behind. Over the years, the people who have laughed with me may have forgotten, and the people who have cried with me will never forget. Although I have become a memory, please remember that I have been to your world.

After a thousand turns, I still missed the season of flowers, only to write my heart into the mottled years, see all the fallen leaves dyed red, the story, is still the scenery after the prosperity. The face that has been sighed and sorrowful has been stretched into a flower, and the words soaked in tears have gradually blurred. Perhaps, everyone has a scenery that can never be reached, a person who cannot be touched. The hustle and bustle is all returned to the calm tea after cooling, and the dust is sealed in the heart. The ebb and flow of the tide is just a process, as long as the flowers bloom and fall, follow the heart, there will be no regrets for a lifetime.

Looking back, the years are late, how many stories can't withstand the years, and how many flowers and things turn into spring mud in reincarnation. Perhaps, the tens of millions of sailors on this Mo turned around just for a moment, but there is always a scenery that makes the heart remember, and there is always a period of time that people can't forget. No matter how amazing people and things have been, they will eventually be precipitated by time, as long as they have been treated gently, whether they are dusty, forgotten, or hidden, they are all beautiful poems.

The dust is like a dream, and the dream wakes up without a trace. Walking quietly alone, watching a season of falling flowers enchanting the green years, tranquil and glitzy in the world, and stained with clouds and smoke. Just between thinking and not thinking, Wan Er smiled, and he had learned to be light and light behind him. Some words can only stop at lips and teeth, and some people can only be hidden by the years. The memories in the story are just the past in the dust of time, and there is no need to look back at the old dreams that have long been washed away by the passing years. The heart returns, so that some of the lost fragrance is as quiet and beautiful as ever.

A turn, time is the story, a cup of tea, the past is ordinary. Separated by the distance of time, the nothingness of salvaging the water moon mirror flower, which was once the most beautiful, has long been covered with dust, and in the earthly fireworks, it has faded its blush. No one can hold the change of the four seasons, and no one can tell whether it is the ruthlessness of flowing water or the unintentionality of falling flowers. If you can, you are willing to be a small flower on the mo, not to seek the extreme prosperity, not to ask if there is someone to stop at the flower, but to be gentle with the wind, green years.

After the prosperity, I no longer like those feelings that are too violent, maybe I no longer want to bear the end of people's tea, or maybe I understand the end of the flower. If people get too close to each other, it will be a disaster after all. Some landscapes can only be enjoyed from a distance, and some are only suitable for staying together. There is no need to be inseparable, the most true in the heart, and there is no need to be accompanied day and night, the heart is the most beautiful. I also understand that most of the relationships between people are from strangers to familiar, and from familiarity to strangeness, and all the tossing in the middle is just to delay the scattered time.

Like beautiful flowers, like the flow of water, how many Yixing Shan has been reduced to a sacrifice in the red dust, and in those emotional times that have lasted for many years, I have remembered too many familiarities and strangeness. Counting the petals that have been lost over the years, there is a special taste in the heart, whether strong or light, it is reminiscent in the splendor of a flower. If there is love, it is not in the morning and twilight, the dark fragrance is still just right. Faded away from the youth who was too far away and too close to his heart, his heart was more kind and indifferent, no matter how much red dust was gathered and scattered, he could be elegant and alone. This is the beauty of eternity. Treat every inch of time well, it is a lifetime of peace.