On the bluestone not far away, there was a man in gray lying, holding a wine jar and just drinking. The sword that once weighed more than his life was thrown aside, ignored. The white hair is messy and scattered all over the body. In an inexplicable manner, he is weak, old and entangled. There is no more frivolous knight-errant sword in the world. The ones here are just drunkards who just want to get drunk.
It's a pity that there is no kind of wine in this world that can make people drunk for a long time.
Shaoyou is dead and frivolous.
This is a river and lake, but it is not a river and lake.
Conception: