Fifteen years ago, at the end of the month, Xiang Cong once wrote a flower appreciation poem.
Looking at the flowers and the moon today, they are similar, and my feelings are as peaceful as those of the past.
...
Is it the smoky imperial capital, or the intrigue-filled imperial city?
Where do you come from? Where are you going?
Why is my life always out of my control...
The fallen woman
After all, she has an unusual identity
Is she a human or a god?
But the love you encounter always makes you feel confused
...