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