The smoke of gunpowder does not stop at the battlefield, it is hidden in the singing and dancing of orioles and the colorful colors. The people hidden in the feasting and feasting are just like puppets. Is it someone else who pulls the strings behind the scenes? The world is made of mud, and birds of a feather flock together. Is the quagmire the only destination? The jackal still has a sincere heart, so do people want to exploit the good intentions underneath their bodies to the fullest extent? Peking blends into the dark night, a scene on the high terrace of a restaurant