The moon in the mountains

She was as passionate as fire and as bright as the moon, but she could lock herself in her room for a day and a night without eating or drinking. She was clearly a young deer who loved to talk and laugh in the forest, but her writing style was as sharp as a politician who had lived for many years. Her drawing style was casual and lazy, like a kitten curled up under the eaves in the afternoon. He had clearly spent a lot of effort thinking and doing a lot, but he still acted as if he didn’t care and didn’t care…