,Veste G Star, I do not aspire to have a favorite pen and paper, quietly taking away the desolate heart left on the table, making the years of youth's vision and passion Chung's hope burn in the snow, flooding with bright red, heart-breaking, choking me. Cang Sang's wind, rain, and pain roll down from his face, scratching in the heart, the rainbow tragically acts heroically, drunk with wine. It's not the west where Red Clouds are out at night, Mac blushes, the stranger in the mirror thus embraces the sunrise of tomorrow.