There are mountains upon mountains and water upon water.
This road is so winding that when I look back, I can no longer see the past.
Drunk and lying on a beautiful woman's knees, awake and holding a murderous sword.
Not asking for the city wall, but asking for the right to kill.
Kill one person in ten steps, leave no trace in a thousand miles;
When the matter is over, he brushes off his clothes and hides his body and name.
With a sword in hand, the clouds move in all directions.
Just ask the world, who is the hero?