Mrs. Nanshu

In the 32nd year of Tianxi, in the Darkhan grassland of northern Xinjiang, the crowds of people in the fair of all countries were bustling. Her figure is light and a bit deserted, and she is the most beautiful sight among people of all ethnic groups. "Nanshu." The handsome young general stopped. Nan Shu swayed a pot of wine and looked at him. The bells on his ankles and wrists rang softly in the wind: "Marquis Liejun of Yingzhou?" "I'm Lin Sihong." He looked at Nanshu, and also took in the clouds and clouds in the sky over the Kerulen River behind her. The golden wind and jade dew met each other, and they started to fight with the army, and the hero's heart was filled with tenderness.