Last come first eight
The moon passes the zenith.
The light falls on the branches, vaguely lingering.
Gu Xiaojia took a cloak and put it on Gu She's knees, "Sir, it's late at night."
Gu She gently rubbed his fingers on the cup.
Last come first eight
The moon passes the zenith.
The light falls on the branches, vaguely lingering.
Gu Xiaojia took a cloak and put it on Gu She's knees, "Sir, it's late at night."
Gu She gently rubbed his fingers on the cup.
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