We meet again in this year, but our hometown is deserted. The small bamboo mat is cold, and there are broken trees on the mountain. New peach blossoms bloom, why should we avoid Qin? I saved Liu Lang before, who am I here for now?
The family traces the green mountains, and the daub of black is used to represent the landscape; the color of dawn gradually emerges, and the pen is used to describe the war. I miss you so much in the cauldron that I weep and take off my seed clothes; I am looking at seven steps, but I can't sing alone.
Even if we are willing to give up mountains and rivers and mountains and ridges, why should we put aside our principles and care about each other?
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I won't give up, just pause. There is an article next door if you are interested.