Night, quiet. Northland autumn, no longer continue summer amorous feelings, the sunlight is no longer warm and bold and unrestrained, the moonlight is no longer meng long tender. Piercingly cold north wind is about to say how much traction out of the depths of the memory of the past. The wind wrapped around moss, suddenly have a impulse want to blot out text. I said,......, destined to meet, you are my deep eyes glittering and translucent get rid of the cold jade, is the world of mortals in t...