Phoenix Emperor, Phoenix Emperor, why don't you fly high and return to your hometown, instead of perishing here for no reason.
Who cherishes you.
Across the autumn water, looking across the wasteland, I feel so melancholy. The parasol trees are green, the bamboo shadows are deep, and the phoenix is waiting among the heavy buildings.
Who values you.
In the past, Luan and Phoenix stopped in Afang, and the Qin Palace was locked away for three years. The beacon fire burns the sky, and the mournful songs and weeping cause the deserted souls to return to their hometown.
Who understands you.
The phoenix is flying, its feathers fluttering.
——This article is dedicated to Murong Chong, who was buried in the smoke of history.
Intention: