That year in the south of the Yangtze River, where the flute sounded, countless reds fell.
In Jiangnan this year, Zhuang Zhou dreamed of butterflies, but he was destined to be a stranger.
The butterfly has flown away, so has the moored boat, and fate makes people cry.
How can I live in that broken-hearted place in the south of the Yangtze River, where wet dreams linger!
Conception: