When you walk through the rivers and lakes, you can see your own path, because the rivers and lakes are at your feet.
I have not walked through the world because I still hold a kitchen knife in my hand.
Standing on the top of the Forbidden City, facing a decisive battle with a cloud of smoke, I suddenly recalled a bowl of Yangchun noodles in a street restaurant, and how many joys and sorrows were boiled into a bowl.
Now holding a sword in his hand, asking how many people in the world are still there, and burning wild geese and kites with skillful hands, life and death are the difference between life and death.
I drew my sword, the sand boat stepped on the green finger eyebrow line, and the flower cup and longan scratched my shoulder. Back on the horse to chop, the Oolong spits out beads to attack the lower plate, and you need to work hard to stab the dragon's teeth to see the true meaning.
The smoke rising in the imperial kitchen tonight is roe deer spine and pheasant slices.
You serve a cashew nut platter filled with sweet-scented osmanthus and ginger slices. It doesn't mean that your cooking skills are amazing, but you forgot to taste the official swallow.
There is a battle all over the imperial city, and tonight, love and hatred are involved.