When the door opened, the flower had already felt like a stranger, but she did not look up. It was not until the gentle call of your long night that she slowly raised her head and looked at your long night.

there is no emotion or disturbance in a pair of clear eyes. It's like looking at a stranger in the long night.

you are immersed in the joy of lost and recovered, and you don't find that the flowers are like strangers. Long legs step out, into the secret room, want to hold flowers like a road, flowers like a road but cleverly avoid.

Hua Rumo gets up, but...