The fog locks the long pavilion, and the thousands of miles of cold waves urge the boat. The farewell in white clothes is chanted at times, and the longing for lovesickness is just looking forward to the moon. The word "wild goose" does not return, the red disappears and the fragrance disappears. The person has not returned. Where are the returnees? The end of the funeral.
Conception:
Come on (??ヮ?)?*:???