Humans were like trees. The more they yearned for the high sunlight, the more they had to bury themselves in the deepest and darkest underground. What the f**k.
Qiao Qingai came to Fenglin Garden with Jian An and two maids. It was a villa garden in a tourist area. The land was as expensive as gold. Before her grandfather died, he owned a small-scale house here.
It was late autumn. Qiao Qingai was sitting in the car, looking out of the window at the red maple leaves all over the mountains. The ground of the forest was also covered with red and yellow leaves, which looked like an expensive and dazzling respect carpet. Everywhere she looked was colorful!
"There is a saying in the f*cking book. In fact, people are just like trees. The higher you want the sunlight, the darker the earth is." Jian An glanced at the maple trees outside, which were dozens of years old. He asked Qiao Qingai, "How does Miss Qing Hua understand this sentence?"