The person on the horse helps the disabled man to be drunk, but the morning wind blows and he is still awake. Reflecting the music of the water, green tiles and vermilion eaves hanging in the willows, I saw the creek pavilion at first sight. At that time, I once said that the wall was ruined, covered with spider silk, and the light ink moss was hazy. Thoughts came and went, the years flowed, lingering for a long time, sighing and worrying...