Jiang Yixing could no longer lie in bed like a corpse. When the old lady returned, she would confront her. 。,Flowers in the garden bloom freely, a riot of colors, and the air is filled with the sweet scent of blossoms...,After the wind passed, the swing went a little higher, and petals floated down with the wind. 。Petals brushed across her cheeks, leaving them soft and rosy. 。。