When I went to my old place again, I saw weeds growing on the slopes and the grain in front of the warehouse was empty. The lonely immortal sits alone, saying that it is difficult to become a soldier in the hall. The old horse does not know the way, and the old man has become a monument. Of course, little brother Ma, don't worry, let me mend and sew for you. The edges are made of gold, and the edges are made of red silk. Tears sprinkled on the incense burner will never extinguish the sparks, and old friends three feet high and three feet high will finally meet again.
Intention: A dream comes to life, and it comes by chance.