The entrance of the saloon on the 1st floor.
The mountains are rolling up and down,
Solanum nigrum, Ryan followed Croton to get off,
The moon shadow casts infinite silver threads,
He bent slightly, and at the same time whispered: Welcome,
The long branches on the side of the bridge hang in a string,
Naughty blowing little bubbles,
Watching the outside world carefully,
attracted a dazzling group of butterflies,
Like patches of green misty ocean,
The sound of rushing water is clear and pleasant,
As if singing the symphony of spring,
Standing in the left and right rows of realistic robots wearing maid costumes,
Pieces of green in different shades,
look around,
like a mirage,
The grass that just sticks its head out,
like a paradise on earth,
There is a bridge over the creek,
The evening breeze mixed with the smell of hot soup,
The flowers are fragrant, the petals are fluttering,
Underwater small fish swaying gracefully,
Can' t tell which is a flower and which i
The wind caressed all kinds of flowers and plants by the stream,
The stream is microwaved,
There is a small stream beside the lotus pond,
The houses in the distance are misty and smoky,
danced lightly,
The flowers follow the breeze,
looming, smoky,
Bend it now and then,
As if the earth was breathing rhythmically,
crystal clear,
sometimes lift it up,
rter of an hour,
into the stream,