Copywriting
As soon as the phoenix flute sounds, the world will be filled with pictures. The dragon roars from the dead wood, a startling song.
The storm is turbulent and Dan is plotting.
The world of mortals is drunk, and the moon shines brightly together.
On the top of Langya Mountain, who is suffocating Ling Yun and shooting at the moon with his bow?
On the banks of the Canglan River, who has left the world to be independent and reborn in nirvana?
When the battlefield is beaconing, who is riding the horse and roaring, turning the clouds and rain?
In the smoke and clouds of the imperial capital, who is it, smiling frequently, sitting and watching the storm?
...
She watched him strategize, followed him with strength, stayed with him through thick and thin, and waited for him to dominate the world. She never regretted it.
...
It rains under the parasol trees at night, and the world of mortals frightens my dreams. The bright moon fills the empty garden like water, like time.
What can I do?
No matter what.
Once the phoenix leads, when will the beloved return?