In the south of the Yangtze River, there are osmanthus seeds in the three autumns, lotus flowers ten miles away, talented people and beautiful women, and childhood sweethearts.
The capital city is as beautiful as flowers, as prosperous as brocade, with young girl Chanjuan and princess consort.
In the passing years, I don't know whether it is a light love relationship or a deep fame and fortune.
In the ups and downs of time, I don't know whether time has lived up to the love, or whether the two have forgotten their covenant.