桃園

极道桃园专属红包群 #比特币战略储备
The silkworm dies only when it has spun its silk, the candle burns to ash before its tears have dried. The morning mirror only reflects the worries of changing hair, at night’s chant one feels the chill of the moonlight. From here to Peng Mountain, the road is not far, the bluebird eagerly comes to check. If heaven has feelings, then heaven also grows old; pitifully, it has left the full moon behind!