The carved windows, heavy-colored vermilion paint, beautiful faces are reflected in the bronze mirror, and thoughts are lightly combed. Singing to the bright moon at the end of the world, who knows my thoughts?
In the deep-walled courtyard, paper umbrellas bloom for the first time, abandoning pens and turning to swords and guns, patriotic common people take responsibility. After writing about the decay and darkness, the streets will be red with blood and the sky will be dyed red.
This year is destined to be an uneasy year; this period is destined to be a period of turmoil.
Conception: