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