Several deeply rooted stories of love, business or hatred...
Burning incense in the jade furnace and tasting new tea,
The soft wind blows the willows and poplar flowers.
Who has ever recalled that year under the sunset?
The branches are dimly covered with flowers,
Dreaming of long hair gently draped over a wedding veil.
I'm just afraid that I'll go to the end of the world with no return,
I'm just afraid of listening to dusk crows in the setting sun.
Just looking forward to the clatter of horse hooves,
In the warm pavilion, if you can keep the sand in your hands.
Listen to the update, people who have left me will return home early.