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Reprinted from 657819551 at 00:19 on May 7, 2010 Reading (loading. ..) Comments (0) Category: Personal Diary
night shift, passing Qintai ten o'clock. This is the first time I reinstall Qintai so late after.
bustling with noise during the day than night in early summer Qintai After nearly a month of heavy equipment, heavy too, such as the artistes on the stage. A street businesses are decked out with lights, playing a lantern, bright as day.
Qintai This is a romantic place, college, Furong Jin Guan City, let me save some memory and a photograph is only Qintai Road and Huanhuaxi, which has only made me miss Qintai endless charm.
Today,
When a girl loves a boy performance, Wenjun and phase as a symbol of romantic love Qintai, try dressing up in costumes of China, very seductive, and even the edge of the scatter flowers floor flowers seemed suddenly changed, Han is not building the Han, Tang Tang is not, it touches on the street shoulder to shoulder connected jewelry stores, restaurants in red paint,
Quiet., cornices cantilever beam, the paste tiling and carved against the background, displays an incomparable Street,
How to ~ ~ ~ How to ~ ~ ~ ~ - Qzone log, this is the street has a simple romantic artistically, this is the place to enjoy the elegance of the Han Dynasty, it became the play the tone, people still remember, the original phase, such as Sima here was the former residence and Zhuo Wenjun!
This is the rhyme of the Qintai way streets, the city should be and less, the width of the alley to become a microcosm of the Qintai Road Chengdu Culture, Government of reform of the millions of Qintai way, except that the new red lacquer on, leaving What? Strong exception to the contamination of all the business on the taste, musical instrument is no longer! Road is no longer the memory of the bluestone.
stop lights shine on the street door arch, I remember when college Qintai way that arch slightly dim, Qintai old rhyme seems to shine with the light and gone now, endless enchanting, allows the I have a sense of loss, looking less than haunting dream that gave me the breath of ah. . . .