The sound of ink drums,
Is it playing the general's order, Fengchiyin or Wuhuangliang?
The sky is filled with blood,
Who still remembers the smile on the cheeks and the fragrance of green plums on the bed?
The palaces are heavily locked,
Is it unrelenting ambition or burning hatred?
Unknowingly and quietly blooming,
Is it a lily or a poppy?
In the fleeting years,
What can't be blown by the spring breeze, is it the solitary smoke curling through the jade gate, or is it the desire and grief that can't be filled in the heart of the old man?
The place where Long plays music: you can listen and play if you have nothing to do!
Dragon's scarf:
Master has opened a trap! ! ! Xiao Lou:
I particularly recommend the new works of my little apprentice Yiju:
New short story:
Thanks to Watchman for drawing me a picture. The ink drum is so beautiful!
Conception: