The emperor's family is deep and full of resentment, and people are like duckweeds with a low life.
The sword has no shadow, the sword is silent, and Zigui cries the cuckoo's blood again.
Even if there is, this infatuation will not change the old friend's bloodthirsty nature.
Sighing about the floating life, Nanke dreamed of it, but when he woke up, he was already separated by mandarin ducks.