Drinking and buying flowers is a teenage thing, but it doesn't feel like the old mood.
He is an upright (zhong er) book painter, and a scheming charlatan;
He, the aloof (ao jiao) god of time, did not do anything serious, but planted flowers, brewed wine, and chased wives.
The shady "legitimate shot" is attacked by VS the arrogant and poisonous tongue
Willows crow in the dark, standing in single clothes, with small curtains and red doors. Young people don't know what it's like to be sad.
The arrogant young master who once cared about the world, was at the pinnacle of independence, and laughed at the world, has passed away in his prime. He has no destination in heaven or on earth. The clouds and smoke dissipated, and the lofty ideals were replaced by bruises and notoriety, and they were reviled by future generations. There are no words to explain to the world.
What is love in this world? Until...
What kind of contract was made with this strange god?
"Oh, what do you have left in the end?"
"I don't have nothing, he is enough."