#Gateio10年周# The sunset at the end of the curtain swayed the lonely place, and the dusk at the end of the sky was the place where my youth was released at first, but where will the port of youth stop in the end? I only know that the lost youth, no longer have the name on the grade, my smile was submerged, why can't I recall it? Will the youth of yesterday not be repeated with a wave of hand? Looking back, the dry lamp is beating in a weak rhythm