Those Years 7723 (1)
In those years, under the moonlight there was still someone called 'Lost Lamb', and Ghost, who could see nothing, was still called 'Calm'. I still remember the days when the two of them asked me together to port games to small screens; in those years, there was someone who commented that games were very impressive, called 'Big Gate', and later he became the moderator of the emotional section, beloved by everyone. At the same time as him was Mo Xiaotiao, a woman with a very sharp tongue, a famous little hot pepper in 7723. It was her appearance that made the forum popular for a while. Later, she also became a moderator.
Replies (52)
If I hadn't seen the wonderful comments on the main page that made me excited, I wouldn't have joined the 7723 forum.
== I've heard of it. I'm very interested in the past of 7723. This is a place with a lot of stories.
If there is no fate, among the six realms, the three thousand great thousand worlds, and millions of Bodhi beings, why do you alone smile with me, why do I meet only you? If there is fate, when the lantern flower has bloomed a hundred times, when three feet of snow whiten overnight, by then there will be silence, only ashes, with no rekindling?
Reply to the 5th floor, the future stories of the 7723 forum will definitely include yours, keep it up
Year by year, day by day, autumn after autumn, generation after generation, gathering and parting, joy and sorrow, lying on a bed, a lifetime in a dream, looking for a companion, sometimes they, sometimes we, that kind of understanding, sometimes chatting, sometimes singing.
If life were only as it was at first sight, why would the autumn wind mourn over painted fans? Carelessly, the hearts of old friends change, yet we say that the hearts of old friends are easily changed.
Forgive me for asking this at this moment (are there any small-screen ported games that Moonlight hasn't shared?)
I don't want to say anything, just staring out the window alone, lost in thought, pondering the unpredictability of life's circumstances… Listening to the lingering and melodious BGM in my headphones, I wonder if I have ever cried…
In Peach Blossom Dock, there is Peach Blossom Hut, Beneath Peach Blossom Hut lives the Peach Blossom Immortal. The Peach Blossom Immortal plants peach trees, And picks peach blossoms to exchange for wine money. When sober, he sits before the flowers; When drunk, he sleeps beneath the blossoms. Half-drunk, half-sober, day after day, Flowers fall and bloom, year after year. I only wish to grow old and die among flowers and wine, Not to bow before carriages and horses. The dust of carriages and the hooves of horses show worldly matters, Wine cups and flower branches reveal the hermit's fate. If we compare the worldly to the hermit, One is on level ground, the other in the heavens. If we compare flowers and wine to carriages and horses, How busy they are, how leisurely I am. People laugh at me for being too crazy, I laugh at them for not seeing through. Haven't you seen the tombs of the heroes of Wuling? No flowers, no wine, only hoeing the fields.
Autumn waters and lotus by the wild islet, Maple mountains and chrysanthemum shadows before the setting sun. Flowers bloom in countless forms, bitterly competing for beauty; Leaves fall in piles, sighing at their pitiable state. A year's fragrance turns into black soil; two sounds of lament arise from the mortal world. Poverty and wealth are both determined by fate; sorrow and joy, partings and reunions are always destined.
Load more replies