Years quietly, turn and nearly, we go through the four seasons, through the morning and evening, in the wind and rain on the way, running and busy, in the cold winter breeze, waiting for spring. Winter, in people unconsciously gradually deep, like the past spring and summer and late autumn, years quietly at the crossroads, there are a lot of breeze hard to hide the mottled, inadvertently, narrating the joys and sorrows of life. - In recent days, the streets and alleys of the city have gradually become more and more New Year's atmosphere, and the travelers who have left home are also quietly looking forward to their way home. Time, like silent growth rings, in people's hurried life, is cascading round and round, year after year.
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