It's not about dazzling eyes, it's not about meaningless prayers. It's something that can be expected, but it's also something that can be discarded or disappointed. Suddenly I think of Qin Guan's words.
As soon as the golden wind and jade dew meet, they will win, but there are countless people in the world. Anyone's destined encounter is due to fate and fate. I guess the poet or Li Yu, the empress of the Southern Tang Dynasty, sighing at the sorrow of a river of spring water flowing eastward cannot be said. Failure to keep the world is a success and a poem. Failure is also a poem. We are all like this. We are forced to embark on a road but are half-hearted in it. In the end, we will be destroyed. I want to write some chapters to record what I can think of as a memorial.