Fortunate to Be a Guest in This World

A corner of green hills, a poet watching over wine.

A spring breeze full of longing, a brief stay at the tip of a brush.

Composing verses for drifting clouds, matching couplets with the stars.

Winding up through the scholar's folding fan.

I am the most ordinary soul behind the window,

Too lazy to wield a brush for pearls and jade, untouched by poetry and prose.

I only love thatched eaves, half a cup of tea, a full cup of wine, and two or three carefree souls.

Calling everyone a friend, unable to tell day from night.

First, let's talk of the martial world, where stories always have one more twist.

Tap the clappers, leave the outcome in doubt.

Then, let's talk of the mortal world, where years are tucked beneath the eaves.

Awakening of Insects hurries Little Snow along, while the sunset chases our heels.

Fortunate to travel the world, greeting one another in sun or rain.

Before parting, we look back over the road we came by, and find half the city filled with friends who know our hearts.

Fortunate to meet people across the world, sharing cups with me tonight.

Princes pass before my eyes, irrelevant beside the wine.

Princes pass before my eyes, irrelevant beside the wine.

After listening to "Fortunate to Travel the World" several times, I was so moved that I wrote this story. This irresponsible author, Some Stone, still makes no promises about updates.

This is an alternate-history story. The units of measurement, currency, clothing, and official titles used in the book are generally those from the Tang dynasty onward, which remained in use for a long time. Anyone looking for errors, don't nitpick. Some Stone writes alternate history, but doesn't rewrite history _(:зゝ∠)_