In late autumn, everything was enjoying the warmth of the sun. It was warm but not hot. Autumn was not only sad, but also had its unique beauty, like an ink painting full of poetic meaning!
In fact, autumn was sometimes white, and it was pure white without a trace of dust. It was like a white woman in white who came out of an ink painting. She had a touch of sorrow, neither tender nor beautiful, but she had cold skin and jade bones. Every frown and smile of her was so soul-stirring. This feeling belonged only to autumn.
Cang Cang Cang, white dew as frost. The so-called "beauty" was in the water!
Sometimes, autumn would be fiery red and full of enthusiasm. However, this kind of enthusiasm was not straightforward, but reserved.
The autumn wind was blowing, and the maple leaves were every
