He bent slightly, and at the same time whispered: Welcome,
into the stream,
The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,
Standing in the left and right rows of realistic robots wearing maid costumes,
Can' t tell which is a flower and which i
Watching the outside world carefully,
There is a bridge over the creek,
Like patches of green misty ocean,
Solanum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,
The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,
The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,
Pieces of green in different shades,
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,
look around,
Bend it now and then,
As if singing the symphony of spring,
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
The entrance of the saloon on the 1st floor.
sometimes lift it up,
attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,
The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,
The mountains are rolling up and down,
There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,
The flowers follow the breeze,
rter of an hour,
The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,
like a mirage,
The stream is microwaved,
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
danced lightly,
crystal clear,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
looming, smoky,
like a paradise on earth,