Mu Xiaojiu: It's hard to meet each other across thousands of years, how embarrassing to miss it. If you have to wait for winter to go, or look forward to spring to come, and suddenly look back, your hair has turned white, your hair has turned white. It was already difficult to meet you, and your thoughts are chilling to your bones. When the peach blossoms are warm, or the poplar flowers are in chaos, yesterday's boy, wearing a green shirt, was happy in his dream. Xuanyuan Purple Night: A curved cold bluestone bridge, why revisit the old place? Why wait for someone to invite you? Dreams, with a hint of age, are still vaguely like when I was young. Murong Yunfeng: Who teaches black and white? Wherever the king comes, the gods and demons want to save the world. Where he is alone, he forgets the river. He leaves his youth without disturbing himself. Who in the world controls the heroes and owls. Huangfu Beiyue: The wind and sand in the desert submerge the lonely building, the ghosts are the prelude to the love, the passion is good, the wine penetrates into the skin, the beautiful face with bare hands seduces people and bites the innocent, the array of camel bells, the swaying wind and sand in the river, the hundreds of miles of frightening clouds: life-soothing·painted skin. Your gentle fragrance floats in the wind and cannot be dissipated. Your blood is painted but cannot flow. The autumn wind and dusk rain are sighing for you. The official roads of the ancient city are the traces of your departure. Your eyes tell the story of a hundred years of loneliness. The words are clearly extinguished. The wind blows, and a drop of red candle is full of strangers in life. There is a different road in the garden. Drinking silk and bamboo under the moon is destined to be daunting. The wind floats and annihilates your long-lasting warmth. I draw your figure but I can't stop. From now on, the yin and yang are separated by the ghosts and monsters. The pipa is bleak. Prime Minister Bai knows that he hates it. He wears silk and bamboo at night. Looking through the autumn water, his heart is broken and his sleeves are waving.