I have never met you twice since I was born, and I don't want to live in this world.
The dew of the blue guinea pig floats, and the frost of the cinnabar valley fades away.
Sitting on the clouds, tracing mountains and lakes, drawing indigo with ink.
In the black and white image, the night and day shine.
The past year has passed, and the coming year will be free.
Pick up the ink and sprinkle it, hold the altar to drink.
Ximo, spend the summer.
, Miao.
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