Everyone is talking about Mu Tong.
When I tap the wood door again, it feels like a big dream.
Name after name, history has been covered up by dust.
The history books continue to write the dusty years, leaving only faint traces, paying tribute to a song that floats like a dream and disperses with the wind.
Maybe you will find this article boring when you first read it, but if you really click on it, please at least finish reading this little story.
I just hope I can find someone who understands this book
Intention: