Time is not an antidote, but there will be an antidote in time.
Three winters and four summers come and go year after year. No matter how beautiful the severe mountains in the northwest are, they can no longer bring out the son-in-law in my heart. No matter how hazy the mist and rain in the south of the Yangtze River are, they will not blur the appearance of the little general in my heart.
Little General, I will wait. You are in my hometown Penglai Island. You said you would carry a big sedan to marry me and go to the northwest. Facing the wind, relying on you to see the immeasurable frontiers and climb the immeasurable Changtai Mountain.
I watched the rain year after year at Penglai Pavilion. The people in the village laughed at me and said that I was crazy and said that you had died in the battle long ago. Every time I argued with them, they always waved and left.
Intention: Where in life is there no fog, the corner of the east has passed away, and it is not too late to see the mulberry leaves.