After four hundred years in the Han Palace, the beauty has withered away.
In the Jiaofang Hall, the Jiuding Zun who is the mother of the world, in the Zhaoyang Hall, the sensual dogs and horses all night long, and in that period of the golden house hiding the beauty, the arrogance of the young man, and the singing and dancing in the palm of his hand that captivated the country and the city. I have spent all the prosperity in the world, just for an unforgettable love, and I have played with the absurdity of the princes, just for the beauty of that generation. When Weiyang's light finally lit up and extinguished this life, the ups and downs also disappeared with the falling flowers. Finally, only a handful of flowing water remained in the Yang Palace, sending away all the years and waiting.
The green lantern in the imperial mausoleum is still alive, and Su Wan is sent away by the west wind. The undead Qianfeng beside the green tomb, and the woman's beads on the moon at night in Guanshan Mountain.
When the dawn of Weiyang finally passed away, the face from another life was finally forgotten, leaving only the white silk, still swaying forlornly.
In the ancient country, Wu Palace is far away, and the lanes are always deserted.