Looking back and smiling in the mist and rain, he engraved his image in the bottom of his heart and painted it on porcelain. The grudges a hundred years ago were just a floating dream. The person who was once in his arms became the person in his porcelain. The war in the south was raging, and the Jingzhen was hazy in the mist and rain. When he was young, there was always romance, but when he got old, the lights were dim; what about the founding fathers? Without his beauty, it will be just a pile of loess after all, and I will sigh in vain... Let's meet again in the next life for the rest of my life.