Yan Zhengming sighed, and looked back. Through the stone mustard seeds, he saw the puddle bird sitting curiously on Liam's shoulder. The two of them were studying the scrolls at Tianyan together, and had no intention of coming back for the time being.
He lowered his head, closed his eyes slightly, and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he was tired.
Yan Zhengming has been handsome since he was a child, as if he had stepped out of a painting. This time he closed his eyes, he no longer looked like a stone sculpture.
Mountain streams rustle down in spring, and the flowers and plants on both sides are filled with fragrance.
In autumn, the water falls, but the stones reveal their traces.
Login to comment
Be the first one to comment...