The mountains and rivers are of different colors, and he is wandering in a world of drunkenness, life, dreams, and death. He has poetry, wine, and romance, but no heroic ambitions. The sons of the gentry gradually decayed in their grace.
It wasn't until he met someone who was determined and unostentatious that he realized how big the world is and that there are still many things to understand.
Over time, can spiritual unity eliminate spiritual emptiness?
In short, this is the process of whether a nobleman who is entangled in metaphysical issues can finally give up his metaphysical confusion.
The shape of the body is unrestrained, shortened and transformed. Looking at the landscape, is there an end?