…
Two small shouts of praise completely pushed the memory of Bo Shang to him.
There are joys and sorrows far and near, islands, tits, foxes and fishermen, mountain villages, autumn water temples, snow-capped peaks, golden butterflies flying in the imperial city, rising to the Yuan Dynasty. When the loess smoke and the sun are red, the figure is slightly swaying. Unconsciously, he is holding on in the snow. He is always afraid, afraid that he will never come back, and his surprise will come true.
Intention: Nothing can be restored to its original state