I have a Jianghu dream.
In the dream, I held a sword, rode on a horse, and drank a pot of wine.
I crossed the loess-capped wilderness on horseback and carried a sword. The dust was bitter and my walk was waning. Looking at the snow-capped mountains, I let go of my hand and resolutely walked three thousand miles with my sword straight.
I drink the horse Penglai Immortal, and wave the Zhuziwang flag lightly in my hand, so what's the harm to the eternal prosperity of the dynasty? Hongwu's millions of cavalry shouted in unison, willing to follow me into the north to fight to the death for thirty thousand miles.
I dismounted and looked at the hurried figures in the old streets and alleys. I had a drink with the old beggar under the parasol trees. I was drunk and dreaming, but I didn't know that in the past, I drew my sword and plundered thousands of feet. I once led the iron cavalry and walked away into the sunset. It was also in a dream or out of a dream.
