In the old days, the peach blossom reflected the red face, the drunken person leaned against the wall and the moon covered the wall, and a person was thinking alone. When we can no longer have each other, then please don't forget each other. The characters in the world are really for lies. I wonder who is putting half the makeup on who. "A folding fan can settle the world's affairs. , A wisp of autumn wind, blowing away the mortal heart. "An ancient folding fan, a past that opens dusty memories, a series of pathos and lingering entanglements, in the end, who loves whom? In the end, whose embrace sees through whose loneliness? Who unfolds the excerpts for whom, whose face is left in night makeup?