The beautiful wind moves the embroidered weft,
The shy moon peeks,
The dawn is looking forward to leaning against the door,
Nights and dreams always follow.
Thousands of threads,
A crazy person,
Zhu Ming shed tears.
I wish to fly like mandarin ducks.
I ask you if you are coming back?
The pavilion is red but filled with blood, a series of thrilling love and chivalry...