Confuse the three rivers to attract the soul, and light the faint green lantern.
Who promised prosperity for a lifetime, but it became a scar on the chest that never healed.
Who stepped on the fireworks of the prosperous age, but became the thorn that others entangled.
Whose tears fascinated the mottled city wall, causing it to collapse instantly.
Whose harp turns the banana green, so ethereal?
A hundred years later, whose back is lightly brushed.
In the Hongying Pavilion, the bare wrist picks Qingxuan...
"I'm waiting for the hundredth story!"