That year, apricot blossoms and mist rained in the south of the Yangtze River,
Mr. Huai became a blockbuster,
The Holy Spirit bestowed upon him a purple jade robe.
That year snow fell in Beijing,
Mr. Huai took action again,
I don't know how many aristocratic families have fallen.
Everyone thinks that prosperity will inevitably lead to decline, and that going too far is not enough.
But I didn't expect that what would be written in the history books in the future would be:
The saint and the prince rule the world together.
I really can't write the copy, sorry.
Intention: None