At the beginning of the Southern Song Dynasty, on the banks of the Song and Jin Dynasties. Lin'an, Luoyang, white clothes and blue shirts. Fight against the Jin Dynasty, serve the country, and return our rivers and mountains. The ink is pure and the white is restrained. The two of them never knew each other but became acquaintances, from teenagers to middle-aged, their loyalty to the world, their ambitions to reach the clouds, their fair hair and pale face, and their hands on the mountain, but that was all. It's just ten years of life and death, one generation in a lifetime, new rain and dew on vegetation for a hundred years, and old mountains and rivers written thousands of miles away. I once said that we would watch the ice rain in Lin'an in the early spring together, but I didn't know if it would still come true.
Conception: