This is a full body photo of a woman, leaning against the old apricot tree and smiling faintly. The pear vortex is filled with spring mash that has been brewed for ten years. The flash between her eyebrows was dyed by half a hanging apricot blossom. Her eyes were three points softer than the new swallowtail feathers - green silk loosely wrapped in a fallen horse bun, wrapped in soft willow branches and faded red ropes. Two rusty apricot silver scissors were inserted into his hair; The plain white short neckline was embroidered with swiftlets' mud patterns, the reddish linen skirt was splattered with mud, the pottery jar hanging around the waist was filled with dewy wildflowers, the barefoot grass rope bell creaked, and velvet like green sprouts suddenly emerged from the soil beneath the feet. Laughter is wrapped in the fireworks of the world, and even tombstones bloom with moss flowers in her eyes
