The Stars Look Like They Are Not Last Night, for Whom Is the Wind Dew Setting the Midnight Sun?

Use my three lives of fireworks to exchange for your lifetime of confusion. The street is long and the fireworks are numerous. You turn on the light to look back. The short pavilion is short, the world is rolling, I sigh again. Who finally broke the string, made the flowers fall on the shoulders, and became confused So many beauties are haggard, so many lovesicknesses are broken, leaving only blood stained with the fragrance of ink and weeping in the graves. The boundless earth can be destroyed with a single sword, where is the bustling music and singing. Leaning against the clouds, thousands of pots hide my loneliness, even if others laugh at me in vain. Let him be pure and turbid in everything, and he will be reincarnated for you with a smile. I send you a song, no matter who gathers or disperses at the end of the song. Who burns the smoke away and breaks away Fei Lu's ties. Listen to the strings break, cut off those three thousand obsessions. The falling flowers are obliterated, and the wind is obliterated. If the flower is pity, it falls on whose fingertips. The lights are shining, the voices are dim, and the songs are endless, reflecting the flames of troubled times. Like beautiful flowers, time flies like a fleeting time. We can't go back to the past, but we can't go back to the beginning. It seems that these stars are not last night, for whom the wind and dew set the midnight sun. Butterflies are beautiful, but after all, butterflies cannot fly across the sea. Mountains and rivers are handed over for you... This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.