February** Dynamic Incentive Program
Chengbao land, miraculous and talented, charming and drunk, the sound of smoke willows and warblers into dreams.
The thousand-year-old town of Zhongling is planted for hundreds of years, the flowers are splendid, and the smoke is light and the birds are wandering.
The evening breeze is cold, where is Zhong Ling on the river, full of blue sky.
The willow color by the lake is thin in spring, the peach blossoms on the mountain shine red in the evening, there are many victories in the south of the Yuxiu River, and there are few heroes in the north of Zhong Lingsai.
The new ecology, Yuxiu condenses into the lake, and the smoke cage is the hometown.
Green silk is like scissors, red skirts and green sleeves dance enchantingly, the spring breeze is beautiful in a thousand mountains, and the soft branches are charming.
A branch of red scissors carved jade building, thin leaves cut into a whisk curtain hook.
The grass is beautiful, and the spring breeze blows the clouds and brocade, and the trees are full.
Soft and elegant makeup, fresh and fragrant, difficult to break lovesickness, a red sun.
The spring breeze is like scissors, the competition is enchanting, the mountains and rivers are intoxicated, and the thin leaves cross the small bridge.
Another year, dancing, the sky goose shadow west wind to send passenger ships.
Drifting for another year, the yellow flowers are not dissociated, and the wild goose shadow has left the passenger ship.
The shadow of the wild goose passes through Hengyang, the west wind chrysanthemum is fragrant, and the yellow flowers and red leaves under the fence dance lightly.
Last night, the west wind and geese passed the end of the world, and the yellow flowers were floating all over the ground was my home.
The opening is just right, the red leaves are still sparse, and the shadow of the goose goes with the clouds and sends the guests back.
The frost sky reflects the sunset, admires the yellow flowers, and the west wind does not understand the south and flies to my house.
The shadow of the wild goose crosses the blue sky, it is depressed, the ground is unattended, and the red leaves are drifting with the waves.
The yellow flowers on Mo are extraordinarily beautiful, the red leaves are dancing all over the mountain, and the west wind of the wild goose shadow sends the guests back.
Flying blue, dust, out of people's minds, difficult to know the wanderer's arms.
One night the west wind is full of autumn, the shadows of geese in the sky are flowing by the clouds, the yellow flowers are not dissociated, and the red leaves are difficult to know the wanderer's sorrow.
Last night, the yellow flowers and red leaves were known to be autumn, and the west wind was alone in the shadow of the wild goose.
According to the high-rise building, it is close to autumn, last night the wind blew the flowers and fell, and now the moon is in the dream.
The golden wind and jade dew dance, the new word Qinghui of the moon is the same night, and the sky is still dreaming of Nanke.
With the same bond, the new words of the moon are lingering, and the clear light is sprinkled and the sky shines on me.
The night is beautiful, where to send the lovesickness when the love is deep, and the dream is also returned.
Who knows, when the soft intestines are broken, a red bean turns into a poem.
By dawn, the red beans were vaguely soft and turned thousands of times, relieving this situation.
A red bean acacia dream can't come true, who interprets the soft intestines, it's always about love.
The cold wind is hazy in the night, the moon is alone, and the lovesickness is thousands of miles away, and a red bean is in the dream.
When the dream is deep, the cold wind is silent at night, the red bean heart is tied, and the two places are lovesick and the moon is down.
Who knows, it's too late to hate, you don't laugh, the most bitter thing in the world is love.
Beans are infatuated, thinking about two places, all are tears, and thousands of strands of love turn into poetry.
The autumn wind into the bones is not self-sustaining, when the intestines are broken, who sends it, and the red beans are dyed with frost.
Love to the depths of the bones and heart is uneasy, red beans do not know the bitterness of parting, and lovesickness is endless.
Acacia dreams come true, two lines of red beans send deep alliances, sleepless nights into the bones, and the reincarnation of the four seasons is always love.
Red beans are born in the bottom of their hearts, lingering in their dreams, and they are haggard in their bones, and they are more affectionate when they turn into spring mud.
The cold wind is deep in the night, the cold moon is ruthless in my heart, where to send a wisp of lovesickness, only to find the red beans in the dream.
The scenery is good, the heart of the poetry is sent thousands of miles, and the wisps of dreams are hidden.
A song of lovesickness tears is pitiful, the three watches are sleepless nights, and the four seasons are reincarnated.
There are thousands of red beans, full of lovesickness and nowhere to say, and the bones are soft and soft, and the most bitter is love.
I can't sleep at night, the love silk in my dream is around the pillow, where to send it, and the heart follows the red beans to the king.
The ruthless years are cold in the bones, where to send, and the lovesickness is still in the dream.
Singing mountain songs, the red bean branches are soft and soft, and there is a lot of affection.
A red bean knows two hearts, who is sent to the lovesickness, the bones are soft, and the sea is hated in vain.
Annoying people, where to send the cold moon ruthlessly lovesickness, who knows the thousands of red beans.
When it is deep, it is not free, the cold wind is a little sad in the bones, and the red beans are tied to the heart and turned into water.
The spring breeze is full of idiots, and the bones are soft and the intestines are tied into poems.
The dream of the year does not come true, and the lovesickness is haggard and more affectionate.
He misses his hometown, where is the return date at the end of the world, there is no way to reach it, and he is full of tears when he hears the bell in the middle of the night.
Where is home at the end of the world, sighing for the years, the bell rings in the middle of the night, and the rain hits the window lattice to send the distant glow.
Zheng Huixian Zheng Huixian Chinese art.