In the moonlight, there are sparse trees in Qionglin, sitting silently alone among the flowers. The hand waved the flower shadow to caress the silk tung tree. The seven strings of Lingling are repeated, and the water flows into the sky. I remember that year in the leisurely garden, the green sound fell softly on the chess bell. Nowadays, there are few friends in the world. The lone wild goose is looking up, in the dusk clouds thousands of miles away.
After a long time, I looked up and smiled softly. That grand war had changed my whole life, my whole emotions, and everything about me. I still don't understand what I can have and what I am destined to lose...
What is it like a shooting star? What makes us wait until the moment when the glass breaks?
The soft drizzle, the warm sunshine, the enchanting mountain mist, take away the sadness, and I gradually let go of my dignity and pride. In the bamboo forest, I play a green piano sound for you, and whisper to you...
Will you wait for me?