Holding the guqin in his arms, dressed in white clothes; whining for whom.
The shadows of swords meet each other, and the blood stains the white gauze: Who cares about the miserable beauty?
Dedicate all the world, conquer the country; for whom will the tears of beauty fall in the end.
On the ruins of Yuexi City, the white snow gently drowned the sting of thousands of years.
If you stand on the ruins, loneliness invades your face, and loneliness accompanies your white clothes.
When the thoughts travel through thousands of years, it seems like last night, the two lovers hold each other's hand and forget about each other.
When his thoughts returned to the city, the sound of the strings had disappeared, and he was the only one looking lonely on the city wall.
A song of tears of beauty, for whom it is composed, and for whom it falls. . . . . .