The dusk rain sprinkles on the river sky to wash away the autumn. The wind is getting colder and frostier, the Guanhe River is deserted, and the remaining light shines on the building. The redness and greenness of this place have declined, and the beauty of the place has ceased. Only the water of the Yangtze River flows eastward without words.
I can't bear to climb high and look far away, looking at the distance of my hometown. I can't bear to think about it. Sighing at the traces of the past years, why is there so much suffering left behind? Thinking of a beautiful woman, I look up at the building. I missed it a few times and returned to the boat after knowing it from the sky. You know, I am leaning against the railing, looking sad!
——Liu Sanbian's "Eight Sounds of Ganzhou"
During the Jingde period of the Sheng Dynasty, there was a famous Su Daxia, but no one knew his real name, let alone his martial arts skills and where his master came from. Su Daxia possesses peerless magical skills, but is just a piece of rotten wood.
Among all walks of life in Bianliang, the capital city, the catering industry is the most developed. The head of the seventy-two main stores, Gongsun Huaxiu, the daughter of Fanlou, was favored by the master when he was a child. With one sword in ten years, he made thousands of waves.
Peonies bloom every year in Luoyi, and the beauties are more beautiful than paintings. The sword, the gall, the harp and the heart are easy to find on the water bank, and the mountains and rivers are in search of a close friend. When the flowers bloom on the street, the people in the past are no longer like a stranger.
Wild horse dust, Fuyao looks down, red clothes are better than fire, life is free.