There are fifty strings of brocade strings for no reason, each string and column is reminiscent of the past.
Zhuang Sheng was fascinated by butterflies in his morning dream, and he looked forward to the emperor's spring heart filled with cuckoos.
The moon in the sea sheds tears, and the warm sun in Lantian produces smoke.
This feeling can be recalled later, but it was already at a loss.
——Li Shangyin's "Jinse"
* * *
The meteorite is cast into a musical instrument.
The frivolous past is condensed in that musical instrument and can never be found again.
A pure white dream, a lengthy nightmare.
With the belief that there is no fear of death, stay with us and be content with whatever comes.
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Tanmei Xiang. Long story. If you don't like it, enter with caution.