The wind and clouds are surging, the country is falling
As high as the temple is, so far are the rivers and lakes
Whose mole is between whose eyebrows?
Whose fate becomes whose calamity...
No matter you are the Nine-Five Lord on the golden throne on the high platform, or the victorious general who kills and decisively in the army formation, I will always be Brother Xuan under the fir tree that year.