Ru Guo tried to think in the quiet night. Qing heard that the world was turning green one day and he wanted to say something about it. You should agree with him. The real quiet season in his poem is not the quiet season at the end of the night. It is a terminal made of a kind of foam like exquisite experience, a cotton like sound lock. It exists with the air, colorless and tasteless, more charming than wine stalks, and more fragrant than flower stalks.
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