After ten years of sharpening swords, making friends in Wuling, I shed all my tears in my life. When I get older, I write lyrics, half of them are hate spread in the air, and I often surround Yan Chai and cicada on the temples.
Not learning from Qin Qi, not learning from Huang Jiu, but relying on Xinsheng Yutian. Traveling around the world, and sharing singing feasts and red powder, it is expected that the title of Marquis will grow old and have no share.
——"Jie Peiling. Collection of Self-Inscriptions" by Zhu Yizun
Different roads, about to leave, desire to drive away.
Leaving that land, returning to this road.
At that time, he was penniless, had no way to go, his future was uncertain, and his past events were unknown.
That day, when he came out of the mountains and forests, he had no one to belong to in the world, and his old thoughts were dusty, but now they are gone.
Who closed his eyes and nodded, still leaning on the railing, vaguely remembering his hometown, where the willows are green and the maples are red.
Who frowns and embraces his sleeves, the breeze at dawn, counting the ends of the world, the drums at dusk and the bells in the morning.
Returning together, meeting by chance, meeting each other.
Hairpin in blue silk in the morning, comb with snow-dyed hair in the evening.