The Xiangjiang River stretches like a mountain. Along its banks are lush forests and bamboos, hiding all kinds of birds and beasts. Concubine Xiang's tears forced the mottled bamboo to come out, and also caused Qu Zi to cry, "The water in Canglang is clear, and I can wash my tassel; the water in Canglang is turbid, and I can wash my feet." Time seems to have lost its meaning to it - the Xiangjiang River has frozen time, rehearsing each chapter of history like a drama. There is no climax, but no ending. Only the waves of the river encourage people to walk, and the sound keeps people intoxicated. Ever since, the river boat has gone far beyond the sky and the earth, but the color of the river is still flowing eastward. This is what Zhu Yue wrote in his diary. This is the story of Zhu Yue and Lin Yuan. This article uses their stories as the main line, with a certain amount of male and female emotions mixed in. If you don't like it, don't read it. You are welcome to read and comment!
Intention: Storytellers will eventually become another story.