In Xiaoyulou, I only have a fragrant lute and a huqin, and I always sing quietly. I can't hear it clearly, but a hint of lingering is always there. No wonder, if anything about love is not like this, secretive and annoying, I always want to hear it clearly, but I can't. When the years flowed away like running water, and my mind became dull, it drifted back by itself. Now I heard it clearly, so I had to endure it silently. After that, I couldn't help but stay for a while, feeling that it was better not to listen. Shake your head, it would be better not to listen. Thinking this in my heart, I ran away in a panic, but the song followed it and got into my heart.
"The plump-bellied black carp in July and August are weaving in and out of the lotus. The cardamom-year-old little lady is swimming around the lake, red mandarin ducks, green ponds, a stretch of pink silk gauze swaying with the waves, just like the little lady's face. The gold and fragrant powder is stained on the sleeves, and she slips away in a distracted way. She calls out sweetly, but does not stay. The pulsating water sends the fragrant water to the shore, but it is fragrant to the south of the Yangtze River."
As soon as people see it, they know they can't escape.
The song is an ordinary song, and the people are also ordinary people. Just one word of love is legendary.
Conception: