When I was young, I didn't know what was good and what was evil. The young man was so conceited that he could only write in the clouds. But now, he understands what love is and what pain is. But now the beauty of life is gone. A bone-carving flute, an unforgettable fan, an encounter, a deviant. I want to dream of Wu Yue and fly across the Jinghu Lake in the moonlight overnight. The moon on the lake shines on my shadow and sends me to Yanxi River.