Once the spring goes, the beauty will grow old, and the flowers will fall and people will die. The last month is the moon in the sky, and the person in front of you is your sweetheart. Three thousand prosperity, at the snap of a finger, will be nothing more than a handful of yellow sand a hundred years later. Only you are my world. I'll spend my whole life wandering around the world to make you smile like a peach blossom at this moment. The flowers are smiling in the deep spring, the leaves are sad in the autumn, the moon is a curtain of dreams at night, and the spring breeze is full of love. Not surprised by favor or disgrace, I watch the flowers blooming and falling in front of the court; I have no intention of leaving or leaving, and watch the clouds roll and relax in the sky. The picturesque mountains are no match for a stroke of cinnabar between your brows; how can I believe that you will overturn the world for me with empty words? The wind blows down the red rain, and the beauty stands at the ferry. Hearing that he was anxious, he was speechless and his clothes were stained with tears. Listen to the strings break, cut off those three thousand obsessions. There are flowers and smoke attached, and the smoke will ripple in the wind as soon as the smoke disappears.
If the flower is pity, it falls on whose fingertips. The flowers bloom and fade, spring comes and winter goes, but the thoughts are not taken away. If I can keep you by my side, it doesn't matter if I abandon this king of the world and half of the country. Who knows that if love lasts for a long time, how can it last day and night? But I want to be with you forever and ever, riding a horse to count the years. I hope I can accompany you like a gentle breeze, blowing away the uneasiness in your heart so that you will never be alone in your life. Entering the door of my lovesickness, you know that my lovesickness is painful, long lovesickness makes you remember each other, and short lovesickness makes you infinite. If I had known that it would be such a stumbling block to people's hearts, why would I not have known each other in the first place. If I had long hair reaching my waist, ten miles of red makeup, a phoenix crown and a rosy robe, I would only wish to hold your hand and touch each other with you. Flowers are blooming and butterflies are flying on the streets, and the country is still different from what it was in the past.
The survivors grew old several times, and the wandering girls slowly returned home singing their songs. The leaves are raining, and the clouds are growing under the moon, telling a story of old thoughts. Take a wisp of breeze and put it in the palm of your hand, bringing with it deep and shallow memories. Put the fragrance of the years into the cup, and the cup will be drunk. I vowed not to return, the flower is broken and the person is haggard, crying with sadness, you are no longer there, the former prosperity has declined, leaving only fragmentary beauty. A beautiful woman is heartbroken, a hero has no regrets, and a passing person has no regrets.
Concept: ancient costume story