There are fifty strings of brocade strings for no reason, each string and column is reminiscent of the past.
Zhuang Sheng was fascinated by butterflies in his morning dream, and he looked forward to the emperor's spring heart filled with cuckoos.
The moon in the sea sheds tears, and the warm sun in Lantian produces smoke.
This feeling can be recalled later, but it was already at a loss.
Tang Li Shangyin
Jin Zhi, who was tired of learning calligraphy, raised his hand and threw out a handful of sheep hair. Someone outside the wall shouted "Ah", Jin Zhi raised his head, and the clear and bright young master stroked his forehead and smiled at each other, and time was frozen forever.
…
Fireworks... Red, yellow, blue and white sparks came up one after another, extremely gorgeous and fleeting. Brocade's little face turned red with excitement, she clapped her hands and laughed and shouted. Xiaosan ran with her on the city wall, their hair on their foreheads and temples were messy, but what was printed in each other's eyes were soft waves, bright and blazing pupils, accompanied by brilliant fireworks.
…
King Xuan smiled, his blood-stained fingers caressing the emerald green jade, clasping his neck, dragon and phoenix in auspiciousness, bright red blood smeared, recalling the drunkenness and candle shadow that night, as well as the flushed little face under the brocade silk handkerchief and the half-conscious smile...
That moment was the only one that determined this life.
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Intention: