When I look back, will you still be there?
The quiet sound of the flute lasts through two lives.
Conditions cease and desist, conditions arise and conditions arise.
Listen to the melodious flute competition by the lake that year,
A lake of autumn water and a strand of blue hair sing for dreams,
The picturesque mist and rain blooming in the south of the Yangtze River are fragrant, charming the spring beauty of March.
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