Spring is palpitating with autumn frost, and the dense mist warms the hall. Under the lamp, the agarwood is randomly mixed in. A few strands of agarwood are used to paint mourning. There is a refreshing breeze, the roar of horses, and the mountains and rivers swaying.
The delicate jade grass, the fragrance of the stove, looks at me with a smile, and I go to have a cup of tea. The orchid in the world is better than the snow, and those who return will think long. Don't be sad, the blood is in your chest, and your clothes are stained with tears.
--"Xing Xiangzi. Ying Xue"
I write my own lyrics, but I hate my lack of talent and lack of learning.
Intention: Live up to the people in your heart, be self-reliant and self-reliant