The sky is clear and clear for nine days, like an oriole singing, and the clouds return to where they came from.
In the first life of the building, there is simple music and elegant music, and there is no time for autumn ashes.
The breeze disturbs Suqi, but how can it stand up to the moon with Qingwu?
How many times in the world, floating as if on the top of the mountain, I don't know what night it is.
The princes, generals and ministers, like dust and silver, go round and round, how is this different?
Return to Xuantian, get it from Jiuchuan, let go of the past, don't ask, don't ask.
The clear sky and Xuanchuan do not blend together, and if the sky is like water, it has nowhere to go.
In the Western Pond, my long-cherished wish came true, and finally there were two lines of clear tears.
Thousands of years of river rain, three thousand weak waters, thousands of miles of mountains and rivers.
The end is also the Ming Dynasty...
Intention: Life is like a dream, how much is the world of mortals