The silver vase holds the jade well, and the autumn thoughts darken the Wuyuan.
Dipping in the fragrance of Lu, the dream falls into the distant sky of Chu.
I pity E Yue the most for her frown and general weight loss, but I have to say goodbye and see you again.
Tired of condensation, but the sick leaves are shocked by frost, and the red orchids are weeping?
The stagnant powder is sticky and fragrant, and the embroidered crotch is quietly searched everywhere.
The figures in the small column are melancholy, mixed with the smoke and fog, and turn into a court of deep resentment.
——Lu Bicheng's "Wish Yingtai is Near"
Intention: