In march, the city of hibiscus, the city ofhibiscus, is a place where the grass leaves, the rain beats the pear flowers,the smile is hidden, and the thoughts of the people are in their thoughts. Thewoman boarded the pavilion and looked at her eyes.
The great desert of the day was in the sky,and the sun was falling, burning the horizon of the distant horizon.Occasionally the raven flew by, and the shrieking sounds echoed in the cooldome, and the sound of the sound was sad. The dead old tree stands alone in thedesolation, and the withered branches announce the arrival of night silently.
The army was in a silent standoff with thedesert. The banners were filled with every tent, and stretched out in thebitter wind. The soldiers solemnly prepared for the coming battle. Some of theweapons that have been with them for years have been rubbed, and the weaponsthat have been silent for a few days seem to be slightly agitated, with aslight, frightening light. Some of them were waving their arms and muscles, andtheir hands began to fall, and they came with a fierce air of cruelty to thedesert. The moon in the desert was a bleak and desolate place, a reminder ofthe mystery and vicissitudes of the desert. In the distant dune, a Wolf raiseshis head under the round moon, and the roar of the Wolf reverberates above thedesert.
The candle flame leaped in the militarytent, casting its shadows on the white account, like the trembling of the soul."These days, the enemy seems to be planning to attack our army, so this isthe day that the enemy will be so amenity." "I am afraid ofthem." "That being said, be defenseless..." "You need notsay more, I have a measure of inches, you go down first." There was onlyone white man in the account. He opened the tent, and the wind from the depthsof the desert was dry and cold, and his face ached, and she wondered what shewas like in the distance.
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