No one can leave, just like we can't pull our hair and dream of leaving the earth. Here, it turns out that it is still the same Jianghu, that imaginary Jianghu, with killings, cruelty, warmth, and happiness, just like anywhere in the world.
In the distance, there was a hoarse singing voice. I don't know which old man from the world was singing loudly:
I live in the North Sea and in the South Sea. I can't send geese to send letters to thank you.
A cup of wine with peach and plum spring breeze, and a light in the rainy night in the rivers and lakes for ten years.
There are only four walls to run a household, but there are only three walls to cure diseases.
I imagine my head has turned white when I read, and the ape across the stream is crying because of the miasma of vines in the stream.
Cover line draft: His name is Kun
PS coloring: Jiutian sky
Intention: