Who wrote the parasol tree for the night rain?
6 : There is a kind of confession called honesty

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"Brother, are you there?" "I'm here. Ever since I had you, I've gotten used to going online before you in order not to worry about you.”"I saw your first love, and I was quite touched. I don't want to comment on anything. I just want to ask you, is it really liver B? Ever since then, you haven't met anyone you like?”"Yes, I have. But for some reason? Later, she disappeared. And ever since she disappeared, she had never appeared again.”"Can you tell me how you feel about this person?”"Sure, I'll write it for you. When I'm done, I'll send it to your email.”"Alright, I look forward to it." " Temporarily named 'Another Bunch of Fresh Flowers.'"

On the weekends, he would open a book and brew a cup of fragrant tea, letting the fragrance of the tea permeate his feelings. She let her thoughts wander between the lines. Cultivate one's own sentiments and refine one's emotions. Suddenly, he remembered an old song. The name was blurry because it had been many years, but there was one line in the lyrics that he could still remember clearly: "Why don't you like the red flowers that are full of pods? Why don't you fold a bunch of flowers and put them on your body?”It was also because of the influence of this lyric that I had no intention of wandering in the world of books, and began to reminisce about the past. I wanted to use my heart to pick up the thin threads of fate that were like raindrops.

It was also a scorching summer, a helpless drizzle, and the same weekend. It was also a prelude to a book, a prelude with only a beginning but no ending. There was a new message on her phone: " What are you doing?"" I'm reading a book "" Why didn't you write anything?"" I don't have any inspiration "" I ordered a song for you "" Okay, let me listen." After a few years, the voice still echoed in his ears. The song still echoed in his heart. It was the song mentioned at the beginning. Hearing this, her eyes moistened. She picked up her pen and wrote an unwritten article.

Today was also a night without any thoughts. The wind and drizzle hit the window glass. There was no rhythm, and it could not stir up any waves in his heart. His thoughts were still settling down, his emotions were still unable to sail, and the boat of words was quietly swaying at the ferry. In the window, I am not sleepy, nor do I have the love of pen and ink. He picked up the pen and his thoughts stopped at the tip of the pen. He took a slow sip of tea and swallowed it slowly with the fragrance of the tea. He was bored and had no interest. Why did all the thoughts run aground at the same time? Could it be that the rainy night made it difficult for people to sleep and also made people feel sad? At this time, there was a notification on WeChat. He picked up his phone and looked at it: " What are you doing?"" Reading a book?"" Not writing anything?"" Not in the mood?"" I sang a song for you," If you understand my deep feelings?"" Oh?"" Did you hear it?"" Yes, I heard it?"" Still not in the mood." Put your hand on my chest and look into my eyes. Remember that your pulse beats my heart. My eyes are filled with the wonderful content of your article."" Hmm?"" How is it now?"" Okay. I'll immediately write you an article called 'Another Bunch of Flowers.'"

If there are white jade orchids in this season, I will definitely go and pick a bunch of white jade orchids for you. Because I like its holiness, its elegance, its beauty, and its flawlessness. Especially in the morning, the morning dew on the magnolias. Picking a bunch and holding it in your hand, you would feel that what you were holding was not a flower, but the essence of the sun and moon. What you hold is not flowers, but the essence of the season's affection. All your deep feelings are firmly attracted to it. You wanted to kiss it, but you were afraid of defiling its holiness. You wanted to touch it, but you were afraid of disturbing its beauty.

After the drizzle, the morning magnolias would definitely have dewdrops. This dew was like the tears of a jade person crying. The faint sadness increased its charm and made one feel pity for it. When you hold it in your hand, you will feel that you are not holding a flower, but a flower made of a bunch of gems given to you by nature. Every petal was white with a faint blue color, adding to its warmth and elegance. It was like a flower petal carved from jade. It was so delicate, so noble, and so simple. You couldn't bear to touch it, afraid that if you were not careful, you would stain it with dust, covering its charm with dirt and tainting its beauty. I don't know where you are, but in my heart, you are the orchid in my hand.

The soul shortened the space, and true feelings faded the distance. I don't know if your sincerity can turn something rotten into something magical, but it will definitely be able to shelter my heart from the wind and rain on the road of life. The ends of the earth, we may be separated by thousands of rivers and mountains, our hands may not have the fate to hold each other for life, but my pulse is definitely beating your heart. I may not understand your deep feelings, but I can feel the brilliance in your eyes with my heart. I see it really and truly. Your sad tears will be the wonderful content of my pen.

The lost time between the fingers could weaken the sadness, but the loss of time could also allow the essence of feelings to settle down. The passing of time could change the appearance of the people, but it could also make the aged wine more mellow and sweet. The faint tears could confuse people's eyes, but they could also melt into the teacup. The soft tea was light and bitter, adding to the enjoyment of the brush and ink. Time and space can make the world distant, but it can also bring people longing.

Helplessness could be annoying, but it could also elevate one's feelings to the peak of selflessness. If possible, I'm willing to fold another bouquet of flowers for you, not for the beauty, but for the loyal love that your song has brought me.

When one's heart fell into the mortal world and was washed away, how many times would one experience the desolation and helplessness of the ancient road outside the pavilion? And how many times would he look at the setting sun, leaving behind a curtain of melancholy dreams? When could he turn around and look back at the bright moon and cool breeze of the past? A light promise would only make loneliness deliberately exaggerate the pain of emotions. If you can have a tender look back, I can still have a natural and unrestrained turn around, I will still be persistent to fold a bouquet of flowers for you.

Who for fleeting years cherish beauty, who for fleeting years hurt. Time is eternal, fleeting. The wind and drizzle knocked on the window, and my heart circled with longing. I don't want to dream of crossing the same boat, I only wish to be with you for thousands of miles. You feel my pulse with your heart, and I beat your heart with my resonance. In the long night, as long as your eyes full of wisdom accompany me in my dreams, I can think like a spring. When my thoughts are exhausted, I will borrow your voice to create a peaceful emptiness for my exhausted heart. I don't know if it's your heart or your sweet singing that has become my reliance. With your song lingering, my heart is always a cloudless clear sky. If you have a knowing smile, I am willing to fold another bouquet of flowers, not for the years, but to form a dream with you.

In the boundless sea of people in the Greater World. A casual beat, a casual look, in the dim light, what caught my eyes was your beautiful shadow, and what touched your heart was my fleeting figure. He didn't know if it was time that had messed up his vision, or if the fleeting years had complicated time and space, or if the fate of his heart was the long-lasting fireworks, or the fireflies that would disappear if they were slightly inferior. After all, there was a brilliant light shining through the night sky. There had never been a touch of the fingertips, only a long river of wishes. I am willing to fold another bouquet of flowers, not for the dazzle of the fireworks, nor for the light of the fireflies, but for the night sky that was once illuminated.

If next year, the scene is still the same, I will take advantage of the night to fold another bouquet of flowers. For you, for me, for my heart beating your pulse, for my pen to write the wonderful content of your eyes. Also to make a promise with you, next year I will present my bouquet of fresh flowers. On a bright and cool night, we will enjoy the hibiscus under the moon together.

The red flower is full of pods, why don't you like it? Why don't you fold a bunch of flowers and put them on your body? The wind and rain eroded the fleeting years, the fleeting years took away the time, and the time faded away the beauty. Your figure gradually faded away, and the same splendor has lost its former brilliance. If I could bend down and pick up a ray of moonlight, if you could stand on your tiptoes and pick up the fleeting splendor, I would rather use my hands to take down all the hardships in exchange for your eternal beauty.

The ancients once wrote a sigh of regret, and today's people also had an oath that they would not grow old until you came. The sages 'hearts were like double silk nets, and their feelings were thousands of knots, describing the bitterness and sweetness of longing. I would like to fold another bouquet of flowers to conclude an endless love for you. I don't say that I won't grow old until you come, because this is a promise that can never be fulfilled and can't withstand scrutiny. I just want to fold another bouquet of flowers, hand it to you, plant it in my heart, and let my heart draw the track for my feelings, and let my feelings complete my heart.

"I've sent it over. Please take a look." "It's quite touching and warm and romantic.”"Is that so? These were words that came from the depths of his heart.”"Yes! I can tell." "You're quite infatuated. You're also a sentimental person!”"I'm a hero too!" "What do you mean?" "A hero might not be heartless." " I've discovered your greatest strength."”"I'd better not say anything. You should preserve the last bit of dignity of a man!”"No, I have to say no." "Then I said, don't be angry. Your greatest strength is your shamelessness. She was quite good at putting gold on one's face.”"High! High! It was really high! Why do you know me so well?" "Of course, who am I?" "Hey! Hey! Hey!" "Don't smirk. You won't be able to say anything good once you smile.”"Do you know what I'm laughing about? I laughed at the two long tusks growing out of your mouth.”"Other than bullying me, will you bully others?”"No, and I don't want to bully others. I'm afraid you'll be jealous." "Yes! Let's get down to business. Have you used any other nicknames before?”"Why are you asking this?" "Because I know a person called the Solitary Fishing Old Man at the End of the Horizon. We get along well and have a good impression of each other. Later, I went to a city in the south to work. There were no computers there, so I lost contact. When I came back, I couldn't find that person anymore. But there's one who I think looks like that person. As it had been a long time, he was not sure.”"Oh! Was that so? If you still find him, will you still like me?”"No, because I was really looking for him with all my heart. It was only until one day when I felt that I had found him that I decided to like you.”"Have you found him?" "Found it." "How can you be so sure it's him?" "Because I'm not looking for a person, but a puppy.”"Your dog can type and chat!”"Yes! Our dog is very obedient! He could type and chat. So I really want to hug him whenever I have time.”"Can a dog use this? You should use this 'it'." "Because I'm sure I've met him today, so I have to use 'him' today.”"Oh, not stupid!" "You're the silly one! After a few years, I came back. I searched through my friends and the sea of people. Finally, one day, I found the target I was looking for, so I kept looking at your space. Do you think I'm looking for a good friend? I'm just not sure if it's you. I only made up my mind when I was certain that it was you.”"Hmm, why do you always think that I'm not good? I've said I'm a dog several times today.”"Aren't you a dog? Silly pig again. You are my dog. What's wrong? Are you unhappy?" "Happy, happy."

In this world, there was always a kind of strange fate called coincidental encounter. There was always a miracle in the world called striving for it. There was always a kind of honesty in the world, called making promises with one's heart.

Throughout the year, Wu Tong was looking forward to the night rain. Because only the rain at night could express the heart of the moon. In spring, the night rain was as expensive as oil. It could always make Wu Tong feel a romantic surprise. In summer, the torrential rain at night could always make Wutong feel the true meaning of the moon's hospitality and emotions. In autumn, the continuous rain at night always made Wutong feel the lingering of the moon and the continuation of emotions. Who wrote the parasol tree for the night rain? The drizzle that drifted with the wind interweaved with the sorrow and joy of emotions. The heart is like a pair of silk nets, and there are thousands of knots in love. The night is still young, the moon is bright, the parasol tree quietly waits for the moon to shake the shadow of the moon,

This book is provided by FunNovel Novel Book | Fan Fiction Novel [Beautiful Free Novel Book]

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