Sword Comes: Zhuang Shengxiao's Dream Is About Butterflies

Longtou Pass, Sword Shadow Pass, blood-condensed battle-armored Iron Clothes Pass, solitary peaks carrying flags and bones casting the pass, the setting sun shining on the river as promised. There is snow on the tomb, on the linen clothes, on the stove the empty bowl is still warm, and on the old letters there is snow under the yellow light. There will be no more tricks for calling children in this life. The ferry boat, the smoke boat, half a bowl of village mash has not been drunk on the boat, the Chaimen dog is barking and waiting to return to the boat. How can the spring breeze stop the jade butterfly?