Branding in the mind is indelible.
It often surging with touch, fierce and blind, quietly dusty.
Heroes and slaves are only a few steps away, and the sweet heaven turns into sad hell. The colored background was darkened, and the sky was a suffocating night.
The cracks of time drifted with singing, passing through the hall, tragic and passionate.
Fengshuang's hands stretched slowly on the wheat field, and the sky was low, and it was a heavy pain and a gloomy future.
Hands, the best soothing wounds, to block all traces. Go, go with the surging of the wheat field, go, clean with the breeze.
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