(Note: The front is empty, empty, empty! This includes court battles, palace battles, rivers and lakes, and supernatural beings. It is a chaotic stew type of ancient story, with three protagonists, imitating the Tang, Song, and Ming Dynasties. It is updated twice a week, probably Tuesday and Thursday)
In Xun'an, no one knows how it suddenly appeared in the world, and no one knows who is the master behind it. Everyone only knows that it is just a gambling house, but not an ordinary gambling house. At night, its owner incites gamblers to use everything they have, even their lifespan, in exchange for what they don't have. Those of you who are ecstatic or in great mourning, have you ever heard a tune whispered by someone in the market——
Xun'an dreams here. Looking at the world of mortals, there is no place to come. The vast mountains and seas look back several times and think. Singing on the pavilion.
Autumn wind makes hair gray. How do you know that things are difficult in the world when you are old? Hundreds of years of mixed religion are all about drunkenness and dreams. A thousand bells are like clouds and smoke.
The fourth prince of Daliang, a hybrid of the Central Plains and a foreign land, the world has only seen him wandering around the country, singing and dancing to his heart's content, being cynical and deviant, but no one has ever seen him wielding power or shouldering heavy responsibilities. When the young man took off his twenty-year disguise, all that was left was the empty sigh of the rebellious officials and traitors. In a dream many years ago, someone asked him for a drink in the south of the Yangtze River, and gave a message to the young master with his hair in a double bun:
The prosperous times are full of chaos, and evil men and sycophants usurp the court.
Under the moon, hundreds of ghosts are haunting Beijing, and the young man's heart is at peace with the world.
The young master of the Tuoba family, or a good young man in the new era, passed through two lives, and the raging fire in his youth became an opportunity. The old friend, the standing wizard, the owner of the workshop who doesn't know what day it is, the talismans are burned out, and the ashes are like catkins. The unlucky man who returned once met the hypocritical and deceitful prince, and finally fell in love with him by mistake, but it turned out to be a sharp sword that pierced the prosperous age. When the prosperity faded and the sun set in the desert, the man still scattered a pot of wine in front of an empty grave to pay homage and to grieve alone.
Intention: From prosperity to decline, or following the wave, or going against the current, what should you do?