It is rare to be silent in the years, and the fleeting years disturb the floating life. He raised his eyes to the golden cup and laughed and talked about ignorance and madness. In the middle of the night, people pretend to sleep, and tears remain in sorrow. The world in the past is now the world.
The nightingale sighed sadly, breaking the spell. Looking back on this world, the floating life has not rested. Lightly pluck the string of lovesickness and look down on the dream of prosperity.
He, dressed in plain clothes and covered with snow, is unparalleled, and his sword points at the chaos of the nine heavens.
He is charming, charming, stunningly talented, and charming.
Life is like this, floating life is like this, love comes and goes, love dies, it is the end of love.
In the turbulent times, who can cook wine, dance with swords, and unify the country in troubled times?