They came with empty words and left without a trace. The moon was slanting upstairs at five o'clock. The dream is so far away that it is difficult to recall it, and the book is hastily turned into ink. The wax illuminates the half cage of golden jade, and the musk smoke slightly embroiders the hibiscus. Liu Lang already hated Pengshan for being far away, and even more so because he was separated by 10,000 layers of Pengshan. --Li Shangyin
What I write about is Li Shangyin's love and hate. Please forgive me if there is any discrepancy with history. After all, I am not a student of history. I just write some romantic stories to make people laugh.
Conception: