I'm in Shichahai

The lotus root is light in the wind, the lotus dew is cold, and the rainbow is broken. The window is red, and the curtain hooks have been hooked up for the first time. The fields are covered with green cover, and under the setting sun, fish waves are fragrant. At this time, I am painting the pavilion, hanging poplar trees on the bank, and I am sleeping and combing my hair. Old travel traces, Zhao Tilu, focus on everywhere, full of separation and excellence. Thinking of Hibiscus and leisurely strolling on the lake. Wandering around in red clothes, lying down and watching the peach leaves sent to the orchid boat. The noon wind blows away the dream of Jiangnan, and the dream is full of water. This novel and its characters are purely fictitious. Any similarity is purely coincidental and should not be imitated.