Is it the pursuit of dreams? Or is it the cruelty of reality?
Is it a utopia immersed in a dream world?
Or the sadness of sinking into reality and ideals?
The melodious music of nature on the road is sad,
The misty rain and clear autumn write desolation.
The flowers have faded and the streets are flat in all directions,
The sword points to the sky and rages across the desert.
Please give me one more minute, I can build this last tile...
Moshang Huadu...