Outside the Xiaoxiao curtain comes the sound of the piano, a song, and a bottle of wine. Green silk and soft hair, recalling life in a scroll. Who will divide the grudges between right and wrong? When people say nothing, they don't ask questions when they are worried.
When the smoke and clouds have cleared, it is reincarnation, and how many tears cover the scars. The jade finger is fragrant with orchid, and the pen has the depth of spring. This past year has been a good time. I don't paint people, only the soul.
Conception: